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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25392322">Winter of the Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeniStories/pseuds/KeniStories'>KeniStories</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Edge of Winter (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Heartbreak, Insanity, Language, Mental Illness, Protectiveness, That One Rapey Section, Underage Drinking, Violence, mature themes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:34:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,055</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25392322</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeniStories/pseuds/KeniStories</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Parker finds himself being put into the care and "protection" of May's and his father's younger brother, Ben Parker. Ben wanted custody of Peter since the death of Richard Parker, but May got custody instead. </p>
<p>This is a crossover between Peter Parker in MCU and Tom Holland in Edge of Winter (2016)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Father and Son - Relationship, No Slash - Relationship, Uncle and Nephew</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or the storylines. I followed the storyline of Edge of Winter (2016) loosely, so there is some variation and added characters. I was not able to find a story out there like this (that was completed) and I felt like it had to be out there.</p>
<p>Songs for the Story: The Road by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis<br/>                             : Lullaby by Al Marconi <br/>                             : Long, Long Time Ago by Javier Navarrete <br/>                             : i love you by Billie Eilish (not for the words but the mood of this song)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 1 </p><p>     “Oh Peter, don’t forget your permission slip.” May hurried across the living room to the door that Peter had just opened to leave out of. In her hand was a paper that she had signed the night before, which would allow him to go on a field trip for science class. Peter’s eyes widened, thinking of the consequences that would have of not turning it in today, which was the deadline for it.<br/>
“Thanks, May.” He said, taking the paper, and hugging her once more.<br/>
“Bye, I’ll see you after school.” She said, kissing his head.<br/>
His strong arms were around her in a hug just like all the other hugs that he got everyday before and after school. “Love you.” He said, and then left, closing the door behind him and heading on his way to school. </p><p>     He was in Spanish class, only half-listening to a video that was playing on an ancient TV screen that was showing a woman saying all the Spanish words for different foods. He felt a vibration in his pocket as his phone suddenly went off. He thanked his lucky stars that he had put it on silent earlier and he pulled it out of his pocket to check the caller ID. He didn’t recognize it. He hung up and put it back in his pocket, assuming it was a telemarketer.<br/>
About five minutes later, he got a call from the same number. He frowned a little and raised his hand to be excused to the bathroom. He got up and left, but answered it in the hallway.<br/>
“Hello?” Peter asked, slowing down as he reached the lockers.<br/>
“Hello, is this Peter Parker?” The voice on the other end said.<br/>
Peter thought it was a little strange that the caller would ask for who he was instead of announcing who was calling first. “Uh….yeah, who is this?” He asked.<br/>
“This is Doctor Serena Hart from the main hospital. May Parker has been in a severe accident. She is still alive, but it is not looking good. Please be here as soon as you can.” Her voice was calm, almost monotone for what she was saying. Peter felt his heart drop down and out of his stomach. He gasped in shock, not realizing that he hadn’t been breathing while she was talking. “I’m coming.” He said, clinging to that sliver of hope that May was conscious when he got there. She had to be alright. She had to be. There was no way she couldn’t be, this was May they were talking about. She was always okay. She was his rock, his pillar through life. He didn’t even bother going back into class to pick up his backpack, he just left the school and ran as fast as he could, whipping out his web shooters and putting them on. He didn’t care that he didn’t have a mask, he used the webs to swing through the straightest path he could carve out of the city and to the hospital.<br/>
He arrived at the hospital and announced himself at the front desk. He was shaking from nerves and he felt nauseous. Once the receptionist got his information in, she had a nurse take him back to the room where May was. The sight was he was met with was not pretty. May was lying in the bed, a mask over her mouth and nose, and the white sheets were up to her chest. He pushed past the doctors who were giving him a run-down of what was happening. She was stabilized for now, but they were far from in the clear. Peter took her hand very gently and held it. Her face was bruised and bloody, and he could tell that one of her legs was in a splint or something. “…lots of internal bleeding…. swelling of the brain….” These words floated through Peter’s subconscious, but he was hearing them as if through a veil, or through thin walls. They were muffled and far-away. Peter could only look at his aunt, rubbing the top of her hand with his thumb as she always did to him.<br/>
“You can do it, May. You’ve got this; you’re so strong…” He thought in his head. He refused to leave her. He pulled over a chair next to her and sat down. But eventually he was asked to leave so that the doctors could do what they needed to. He was removed to the waiting room, surrounded by people doing the exact same thing he was: waiting and hoping — praying for their loved ones. The anxious tension in the room was almost too much for him, but he kept himself calm, trying not listen to all the chatter outside of the room, nor the whispers inside of the room. The worst was the smell. Hospitals had the worst smell. An attempt to cover up death with copious amounts of bleach. It reminded him of the the restrooms in cheap diners that have a tiny hanging pine-tree smelly thing hanging in the doorway to attempt to keep the smell away. It never worked, it just smelled like crap and pine-trees.<br/>
He had the mind to make some phone calls, but of course, he did not need to call Ned. Ned’s caller ID popped up on his phone, and Peter explained to him what happened. And Ned, being the stud that he was, offered to tell the teachers so Peter could be excused, and he would collect the homework.<br/>
He was called in after several hours. He got up and went in to see her, and miraculously, she was awake. Her eyes were open. He ran to her and took her hand again. “May! Oh my gosh, May!” He didn’t even know what to say. He was nearly in tears, but he held himself together and just watched her. The way she couldn’t open one eye, or how it looked like she was struggling to swallow was difficult for him to see. She reached up and touched his face with her hand, running her small fingers down to his chin. He had a light grip on her wrist. He leaned into her touch a little, his eyes glued to hers, just watching her expression. She watched him, and he detected a change in her eyes, one that made him feel something like a bullet in his heart. She slowly opened her mouth, “My sweet boy…” She said almost inaudibly, and her eyes stared past him and went glossy. Her hand went limp in his, her touch was no longer on his cheek. He held her hand, feeling how it was no longer intentionally touching him, and how her eyes no longer saw him. His mind went into total lockdown as he just stared at her in shock. He did not notice as the doctors swarmed around him and May when they heard the monitor flatline. He was grabbed by a nurse and pulled away. He was complacent until she started to pull him out the door. Then he grabbed onto the doorway and wouldn’t leave. He fought against the nurse’s pull, not saying anything, just keeping his eyes glued the traumatic scene in front of him. He heard “Clear!”, but he could not see around the doctors to tell what they were doing as they tried to get May’s heart rate back up. But the monitor continued to scream a flatline. He felt nauseous again and dizzy, and it almost brought him to his knees. The nurse attempted to pull him up, but it was obvious he was losing consciousness. Another nurse ran in and helped get him up, and they brought him to a quiet room where he could sit by himself. He wanted to scream, to cry at how unfair everything was. Why was this happening? May didn’t deserve that at all.<br/>
His sense of urgency exploded in his chest and he got up and staggered to the door and opened it. The nurse from before was not far away and she ran over to keep him from coming out of the room. “Mr. Parker, you need to sit down.”<br/>
“No! No no I have to see her! I have to be with her to make sure she’s ok! Is she ok? Please- no!” He struggled as he was brought back into the room. He had a super-human amount of strength and had no obligation at the moment to keep that hidden. It wasn’t until two other nurses and a doctor came in to put him back in the chair did he lash out. He hated being crowded like that. One nurse was knocked to the floor when he shoved her away with one arm. He had to get to May. That was all that mattered. In his moment of insanity, he didn’t even feel the needle go into his arm. Which gave him no explanation as to why he suddenly lost control of his body and he sank into the doctor’s arms. “No…no please— stop…” He mumbled as he felt everything go dark.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Do let me know if there are any crazy grammatical or spelling errors.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Peter arrives in Ben's home in the middle of nowhere. He realized just how much he was going to miss the city, and especially contact with his friends.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 2</p>
<p>     Peter woke up alone in a room, lying on one of those hospital beds. He sat up, wondering for a split second where he was before it all came back to him. He felt like the memories literally slammed into him. May, the accident, her waking up…and then going… He put his hands over his face as the agony of the memories resurfaced. He stood up, feeling a little wobbly. He went to the door and opened it, peeping out onto an empty hall. That was terrifying. There was no one. Nothing. Just an empty hallway, illuminated by flickering white lights on the ceiling. He looked down one way and then the other, not entirely sure which way he needed to go. He had to get to May. The doors to all the other rooms were closed. He took a deep breath in, and then left the doorway and turned right down the hall. He got to the double doors at the end and opened them. He strained hard for any noises of people around. His Spidey senses kicked in suddenly when he heard a pair of footsteps behind him. He whirled around, and was met by one of the doctors. “Whoa, hey there Peter. It’s just me.”<br/>
Peter studied him and nodded. “Oh. Where’s my aunt?”<br/>
The doctor looked at him in sadness. “Peter, she didn’t survive.” He knew he had to just come out and say it. There was no use beating around the bush. Peter felt like his world was ending with those words. He stared at the doctor for a good couple of seconds before he slightly shook his head and backed up. “No..no she…she can’t…” He said as tears filled his eyes. He bit his lip a little, feeling weak again. “Please, I want to see her…please…” He begged. The doctor’s heart broke for him and he nodded. “Ok. Come on.” He led the boy through the double doors and down the hall to where May was being held.<br/>
Peter saw the bed that May was in, and a white sheet was over her head. The coroner pulled back the sheet for him, even if it was against his better judgment. Peter felt the tears stream down his face as he saw his worst nightmare realized. He was given a moment to take it all in and to grieve.<br/>
Eventually the doctor walked over to him. “We have contacted your uncle Benjamin, he is here. He’s in the waiting room, ready to pick you up. You just have to sign somethings.” Peter listened to him and he felt a resistance in his core to this change. Uncle Ben? He had only visited him a couple of times, and even then it was only when he had to. Ben Parker was the youngest brother out of the Parker family. Peter’s father had been the oldest, and May was the middle child. All Peter knew was that when his father died, it was his last express wish that Peter go to May, not to Ben. And Peter knew why. Ben was immature to say the least. At least, that was how it was when he last saw him. Who knew, maybe he was different. He had a drinking problem and gravitated toward fights, which was why he only had crappy friends, it seemed. But that wasn’t all. Ben was very sour and bitter toward May and his deceased brother for keeping his nephew from him. In fact, when Peter was eight years old, May had to put a temporary restraining order on Ben to keep him from going to Peter’s school when Ben lived in the city. Peter never knew until much later, but Ben would go and hang out around the school and watch him leave the school to get to the bus. May found out after some teachers notified her that there was a man that had seemed interested in him outside the school yard. But Ben didn’t live in the city anymore, he lived somewhere out in the middle of nowhere in the extreme north of New York. But Peter didn’t know any more than that.<br/>
Peter snapped out of his memories at the voice of the doctor. He blinked and looked at him, and then looked back at May again. He knew no matter how long he stayed at her side, she would not get any better. The doctor sensed his train of thought and lightly pulled him away from her body and out of the room. Peter followed him docilely, totally in a dream-like state. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he was trying to figure out how his life had gone this direction so quickly. He followed the doctor out to the waiting room and there was Ben, standing by the door. He smiled when he saw Peter. Peter looked at him and noticed the changes since he last saw him. He was more rugged, it seemed, with a short, scruffy beard and side-burns, wearing jeans and a checkered plaid jacket against the cold. It was October, so yes, it was very cold out.<br/>
“Hey Peter. Wow, you’ve gotten so big.” Ben smiled brightly. But Peter did not feel at all comfortable under that smile, or his gaze. He felt how the man looked him over and he didn’t like it. But he felt obliged to say something, to be polite. “Hey. Um..yeah, it’s..been a while.” He muttered softly. He became conscious of Ben’s attitude. Carefree almost. His sister had just died in a horrific accident and he didn’t seem to mind in the least. He narrowed his eyes a little, glancing back at the doctor and then looking at Ben again. Ben didn’t pick up on any of Peter’s body language of how uncomfortable he was. “Alright. I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’re gonna be coming up north with me then.” He said. A woman walked up to them with some papers for him to sign. Peter looked at Ben, then at the woman, and then the papers. Was this the only way now? Was there no other option for him? Ben lived far away. He would be leaving his school, his friends, the city— Suddenly he gasped. Who would look out for NYC while he was gone? Spider-Man would be gone!<br/>
Ben cleared his throat and Peter got back to reality from inside his head. He had apparently been staring at the paper for a long time. He almost set down the pen in a panic, not sure he wanted to do this. But he was only 16. Where would he go? Into the foster system? But that would only be for two years at least. He glanced at Ben. He couldn’t do that to Ben, be an orphan instead of go with him. He bit the inside of his cheek and just signed it. The woman took the paper away.<br/>
“Alright. We’re going to go to your place, get your stuff, and then we’re off.” Ben said, leading him out of the hospital.<br/>
Peter slowed down in his walking behind Ben, watching him go. He didn’t know if he could step foot in a place where May would no longer go to. He felt his heart hammering in his chest, but he pushed himself to catch up with Ben. There was a crappy Toyota in the lot, one that had probably skipped one too many services.<br/>
They got to the apartment and Ben went up with Peter to the room to help him carry the stuff. Peter stood at the door in the hallway with his key in his hand, but he didn’t know if he was ready to go in. He refused to look at Ben, who was standing a couple paces from him down the hall. Finally he pushed the key in the lock and turned it, and went inside. The same scent he had always smelled…her perfume and just…her smell, came to greet him as he walked in. He moved through the living room and down the small hall to his room, and just set to work on packing his suitcase. Ben travelled slowly through the apartment, looking at the decor on the walls and the vases on the counters. The nice furniture, TV, kitchen appliances. It had a woman’s touch on the place, which was good for any living space. Peter hauled out a suitcase of clothes and books and other things he wanted to bring, and he had his backpack on which had his suit at the bottom of it. He went down the hall further to May’s room and gently opened the door, peeping in. He felt like he was intruding, but he knew at this point, it did not matter. He walked in and saw the nightstand by the bed, and the little jewelry box. On the wall was a cork board with some pictures. He took the pictures of her and him on their various trips.<br/>
“Hey Buddy, you coming?” Ben’s voice came from the kitchen.<br/>
“Y-Yeah, I’m coming. Just give me a minute.” He called back, forcing his throat not to tighten up. He looked over at her dresser and walked over to it, picking up the bottle of perfume. He felt really stupid, like he was being too sappy or something, put he sprayed a shot of it in the air and took in the scent. He felt tears in his eyes. He forced them to go away, and he capped the bottle and put it in his pocket. He didn’t know what would happen to all of this stuff. He didn’t know where it would go. He said a mental farewell and then left the room, shutting the door behind him. Ben helped him carry some stuff and they left the apartment. Once the car was packed, they were on their way out. It was a couple hours drive. He texted Ned a brief summary of what was happening, and how, in short, he would not see him again for a long time. </p>
<p>     There was a long stretch of silence. “What about school?” Peter asked suddenly.<br/>
“What about it?” Ben asked.<br/>
Peter looked at him with a slight frown. “I can’t just drop out. What am I supposed to do?”<br/>
Ben watched the road ahead. “You’ve gone through a lot. It’s been a really tough day. You should take a little while to recover. You don’t need to worry about school right now. But there is a school in my town that you can go to.” He said.<br/>
Peter had lived his whole life in the city. He didn’t know what to expect from his uncle. “So you live in a town? Is it close to anything I would know?” He asked.<br/>
Ben shrugged. “It’s a….small town.”<br/>
“How many people?”<br/>
“Ehhhh thousand or so.”<br/>
“A thousand?” Peter asked, his eyebrows going up his forehead.<br/>
“That’s generous.” Ben glanced at him and smiled.<br/>
Peter stared straight ahead at the road. It was a clear road, but the ground on either side of it was thick with snow. He shivered a little and sank further into the seat and tried to think of anything else. </p>
<p>     The car pulled to a stop and Ben nudged his shoulder. “We’re home.” He said, getting out of the car. Peter woke up, feeling really groggy and heavy-headed. He sat up and unbuckled, getting out and grabbing his backpack. He looked at the house in front of him. It was a house with siding and wood, almost like some kind of cabin. It was pretty small, perfect for one person. Maybe two. He looked around, and thank so his spider-vision, he could make out their general surroundings in the dark.<br/>
“We’re in the middle of nowhere.” He said suddenly, forgetting to keep that in his head. “You don’t even have any neighbors.” He looked around and saw there was not another house in sight. The house was in a clearing, but circling the house on all sides about 100 yards away was forest on all sides. The snow muffled the sound of the car doors shutting and their footsteps going toward the house.<br/>
“Yeah, I know right? It’s pretty awesome. No obnoxious highway sounds or lousy people walking around. It’s great.” Ben smiled and opened the door to let Peter in first. Peter walked up the steps into the front door and walked forward a few steps so Ben could get in. Ben closed the door and turned on the lights. It was quite a mess of a house that greeted Peter. Every table surface was covered in papers or tools. He was relieved to find that there were only a couple beer bottles around, not many. He seemed to be a little bit dumbfounded and still in shock because he didn’t move from where he was standing. Ben awkwardly squished past him, not pushing him to take it in any faster than what he was.<br/>
“You hungry? I got some…umm…” Ben went into the kitchen, and Peter heard the sound of the fridge opening, and then the cabinets. “We got some soup.” He said finally. Peter looked around as he timidly stepped through the living room. There was a crappy TV against the wall opposite the couch, which was not very clean. Ben came out of the kitchen to see he was still standing there in relative shock. The man sighed softly and walked toward him. “Hey, kid. It’s ok. Here’s your room.” He walked down the hall to a bedroom and opened a door, turning the light on in it. Peter didn’t know why he suddenly felt overwhelmed with the desire to give in to his feelings of fear and discomfort at that very minute, but he restrained himself. Maybe it had to do something with seeing that ugly dull yellow light stream out of an unknown room into a black and empty hallway. He suddenly felt like he wanted to drop everything and run into the night. But he forced his feet forward and walked toward Ben and to the bedroom. He dropped his backpack on the ground and Ben went back to get his suitcase and brought it in. Peter looked around and then turned to the doorway where Ben was standing. Peter stammered. “Th-thanks, it’s great.” He said softly, anxiously pulling at the long sleeves of his sweater. He was wearing a winter coat over his sweater, his gloves were in his pocket, and he wore a beanie that May bought for him last winter. It was his favorite one. Ben walked over to him and pulled him into a hug, and Peter almost resisted, but he didn’t even know why. And he felt cruel, to treat Ben this way. He hugged him back a little and breathed a silent sigh of relief when Ben let go. “Let me know if you want food.” He said and left the room. Outside the door was just pitch black hallway. The light of the living room down the hall was hardly enough to reach to his room.<br/>
He looked around the room, all the walls were wood paneling, and there was one window. He walked over to it and peered out, but there was nothing to be seen in the darkness. He noticed that the glass was very thick and the window did not open. The only things in the room were the bed and the wardrobe, and a large dusty mirror that hung on the door. The bed had metal framing and it screeched when he sat down on the old mattress. He felt clueless and behind the very fast bend his life had taken. He hadn’t yet registered everything that happened. He wasn’t hungry, so he just rolled over onto the bed, still in his shoes, and jeans, and coat, and he fell asleep. He didn’t want to turn out the lights either.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Peter learns more about the man he calls "Uncle Ben".</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 3</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     Ever since Peter was bit by that spider, he never really did sleep as late as normal teenagers did. His mind was so active by 7 o’clock that he hardly had any choice but to be up and about by 8. And even though he was so used to the city sounds and could tune them out, something like someone yelling, or those huge trucks blaring their horns always woke him up. But this time, it was the utter dead silence that woke him up. For a split second, he thought he was dead. How else could it have been so quiet? He opened his eyes and was flown for a trip of vertigo when he forgot where he was for a minute. He sat up and the bed frame screeched painfully, offending his senses. He got up, feeling stiff and crinkly from being in shoes and jeans all night. His beanie had come off his head during the night and was on the floor. He picked it up and set it on the bed. He looked at his phone which was on its last leg as he had forgotten to charge it. It was 7 am. Right on schedule. He didn’t feel well-rested. He felt like he had just taken a hiatus from the agony of yesterday, not really healed from it. He went over to the door and opened it slowly. It creaked as did the floorboards when he stepped out into the dimly lit hallway and he walked out into the living room. <br/>     Ben was in the kitchen making some breakfast. The TV was on with the news at a humming volume. Peter glanced at it, walking by. Something about the governor of New York doing whatever he was doing. Peter moved through the living room and to the kitchen, feeling really hungry, but still nauseous at the same time. Ben saw him and smiled. “Hey buddy, you’re up! Want some breakfast?” They were frozen waffles from the box. But at this rate, Peter could eat just about anything. “Yeah, thanks.” He said and sat down at the small table. Ben brought over a plate with some pancakes and a cup of milk. “How you feeling?” Ben asked him. <br/>     Peter shrugged subconsciously. “I’m ok.” That was a lie, and they both knew it. Peter watched Ben move around the kitchen, getting the syrup. “There’s going to be a funeral…” He said, forcing himself to get down his breakfast. He didn’t know who would take care of that. He didn’t want the state to pay for her funeral, or it would be a generic, pauper’s grave. <br/>     Ben just nodded. “Mmhmm.” He affirmed. But Peter didn’t think Ben was getting what he was saying. “I don’t think there’s anyone to take care of it.” Peter pushed on a little. Ben shut the fridge door and brought the syrup and butter over. He sat down across from Peter and made his own stack. “It’ll all work out. Don’t worry.” He told him. Peter watched him dubiously, and then decided that he would ask the hard question, though he didn’t know if he was ready for it yet. “Back at the hospital when you picked me up…it was like…nothing had happened. Aren’t you upset?” He asked. <br/>     Ben looked at him. “Of course I’m upset. She was my big sister you know. I’m really going to miss her, even if we didn’t talk that much.” Peter just nodded. He had a lot more questions, but he still felt exhausted from yesterday. He ate his food silently. After a while Ben spoke. “I gotta go to work in a little bit. Make yourself at home, the tv is all yours, you can watch whatever you want. I’ll bring back some groceries too.” <br/>     Peter nodded. “How far away is your work?” He asked.  <br/>     “About 30 minutes.” <br/>     “30 minutes?” His eyes widened. <br/>     “That’s how far away the town is. All the shops and stuff. The hospital.” Ben said as he cleaned up the dishes. By cleaning them up, it meant collecting them and leaving them in the sink for later. Peter didn’t like being that far away from anything. He didn’t have his friends or anyone. After Ben left, he got up and went to his room where he left his phone. He picked it up and went to text Ned. “No service. Awesome.” He mumbled, with some bit of frustration. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He got out of his sweater and jeans and went to take a shower. It felt amazing, as if he was washing yesterday off of him. But the weight still held him down. The weight of grief. </p>
<p>     Peter explored the house a little, feeling slightly weird that he might be intruding. He didn’t have to look at all the paperwork to know that Ben was behind on his bill payments. He plopped down on the couch and turned on the tv, but he couldn’t really find anything entertaining. The sun was out, but it was cloudy. He got his coat on and his beanie and went outside to look around. The snow crunched as he walked, and he found that behind the house was a shed. He hiked through the snow over to it and pulled at the doors until they opened, creaking all the way and creating a path through the snow in their wake. He stepped inside, searching for the light switch on one side but didn’t find one. He figured there was a light inside with a pull-string. The light of the sun reflected off the clouds and snow enough to provide light enough to get inside. He walked in and looked around. There was a very old rusted car in the center of the shed, and the walls were lined with tools and boxes. He found the pull-string hanging from the center of the room. When he pulled it, the light bulb illuminated the room better, and he could see more clearly. The tools that were hanging on the walls were not what he thought they were. He thought he was seeing shovels and yard tools and other things, when in reality what was hanging on the tool strips were rifles and shotguns. He gasped softly, the cold air catching in his lungs. There were so many weapons. Knives and guns and blunt-force objects. Where did he get all this stuff? He didn’t like this place, and soon he turned off the light and shut the doors, and hiked back to the house. But he did not go in. He looked around at the forest that surrounded the land the house was on. He really was alone. So very alone. No one was around for miles, and no one would know how to find him should they need to. He wondered if there was a tracker in his suit. He ran inside and went to his room and took his suit out of his backpack and looked at it, searching it all over for some kind of marker. If there was a tracker on it, Happy and Mr. Stark would have been notified that the left Queens. And one of them would have called. But he had no service, right. There was so many things he didn’t know, it was annoying. He sighed and put the suit back into his backpack and went back out into the living room. There was no homework to do, no one to talk to, and nothing to do. But he did feel like moving around. He grabbed his earbuds and phone and then cleared out a large space in the living room, moving the coffee table to one side and pushing some clutter out of the way. He got down and started doing pushups, not counting them, not trying to beat any score, just going until his arms burned and he did even more of them. Something to take his mind off May, off his boredom, off this crappy house, and the shed full of guns. He did pushups until his arms literally gave out and they burned badly. Then he turned right around and did sit-ups, doing them until his abs screamed and he couldn’t do it anymore. His shirt was sticking to him and he felt like his own body heat was a force against the harsh winter that threatened to try and get through the siding and wood panels of the house. He ate some soup at lunch time but was not hungry for anything else. </p>
<p>     Around 5, the door unlocked and Uncle Ben walked in. Peter had put everything back to normal by then, and he was curled on the couch, reading a book he brought from home. He looked up. “Hey.” He said. Ben closed the door and walked into the kitchen to set down the bags of groceries he had. “Hey, what did you do while I was gone?” He asked, taking off his coat and tossing it over the back of a chair. Peter shrugged. “Nothing.” <br/>     Ben rifled through the groceries. “Got us some stuff.” He picked up several 6-packs of beer and put them in the fridge. “You like beef jerky? Got some of that stuff. It’s delicious.” He tossed the jerky on the table. “I got poptarts.” He put a couple boxes of those on the table. <br/>     Peter glanced at what he was doing from the couch and raised an eyebrow. “You know how much sugar is in those things?” He said. <br/>     Ben smirked. “That’s what makes them so damn delicious.” He grinned as he continued to put the stuff away. “Got some eggs and stuff to make omelettes. Meat and bread for burgers later….aaaannnddd…soda. I got you some soda, but you’re more than welcome to have a beer.” He said. Peter watched him. “I’m not 21.” <br/>     Ben looked at him. “Those silly rules out there don’t apply in here. In here, you’re a man, and I’ll treat you like one. Don’t get into cigarettes though. Those’ll fuck your shit up.” He chuckled, knowing from experience. <br/>     Peter was silent for a little while, but he finally spoke up, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Hey, were you ever married?” He asked. <br/>     The question probably caught Ben off guard as he switched mental gears to the topic. “Once, yeah. Why do you ask?” <br/>     “Why is she gone?” He realized how incredibly childish he sounded, but maybe he could get away with it. <br/>     “She um…it just didn’t work out. She had other plans for life than I did and they weren’t…compatible I guess.” He said as he finished putting the groceries away. “Why do you ask?” He asked again. <br/>     Peter shrugged. “Just curious. May told me stuff and so I was curious.” <br/>     Ben sat down in a chair adjacent to the couch, a beer in hand. “What did she tell you?” He asked. <br/>     “She…told me that you were married and had a kid.” Peter wondered if he was broaching on touchy territory, but he wanted to push his luck and see how far he could get. He was bored out of his mind. <br/>     “That’s true. I was married, and we had a daughter. But when she left, she took a lot of stuff. And she took our daughter. It’s…been a while since I’ve seen her.” <br/>     Peter wondered how it must feel in one’s life and esteem to have people in his life that he can only see on special visits, or as a very last resort in the death of someone else. It made him feel sorry for him. <br/>     “What else did she tell you?” He asked, sipping on the beer. <br/>     “She said that…when I was little you stalked me at my school, and so you had to leave.” He told him, wondering if any of this would make him mad. <br/>     “Huh. That’s funny.” He smiled and took another swig of the beer. <br/>     “What’s funny?” Peter frowned a little. <br/>     “That spin she put on it.” He wiggled an eyebrow at the boy. “You see, May was dating someone when you were that age, remember that?” Peter just shook his head, and Ben continued. “She was really smart and clever, but sometimes she went all head-over-heels for some guys she was seeing. This guy was some snobby womanizer and I knew it. But he wasn’t just after her. He was after you. This guy was not a creep like the others. Because most guys that are creepy and after little 8 year olds can’t act completely normal. Something screwy in their heads and women can sense that. This guy could hide that. And May never felt anything off about him, not until later. But he would walk you to the bus stop in the mornings when he was there, and then walk you back home from the stop in the evenings. You really don’t remember that?” He asked. Peter shook his head again. Ben shrugged. “Must have blocked him out. This was when I was living in the city. I didn’t trust him. At all. And so I followed you to school and was there to see him pick you up. Just keeping an eye out for you. Well that guy told May, and she flipped out and took it to court to get a restraining order on me and everything. But of course…she was only telling you those things to protect you.” He said. <br/>     Peter was silent for a while, processing what he learned. He was young, sometimes gullible. But he knew not to take everything totally seriously. He was still very partial to May. And he knew for a matter of fact that she would never do anything that would harm him. She would die for him… or would have. He felt a knot in his throat at the thought. <br/>     “I think I’m going to turn in now.” Peter told him. Ben nodded. “Goodnight kiddo.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Peter meets his Uncle's coworkers, and they are less than savory characters.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Warning* Underage drinking, peer pressure, and minor rape/non-con (not all the way).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 4</p>
<p>    A week after he had arrived was May’s funeral, which they both went to, of course. As it turned out, Stark took care of the cost of everything and she had a wonderful funeral. Even though this event should have been one of immense pain and sadness for Peter, it was also revitalizing to him. He saw his beloved NYC again, and his friends were there for him. He got to see Ned and MJ once again and he caught up with them. Stark and Happy were there for him. But there was a note of urgency in their visit to him. Stark pulled him aside while Happy made sure Ben didn’t try to break ranks. <br/>     “How’ve you been kid? I can’t contact you, which is weird because I can contact someone in the middle of Zambia with no problem. Why can’t I reach you?” He asked.<br/>     Peter heard the worry and urgency in his tone. “It’s in the middle of nowhere, Mr. Stark. He lives out in the middle of a forest up north, there’s no service, and the closest anything is a half an hour away.” He said. <br/>     Stark didn’t like that. “You can move in with me, Peter. You don’t have to stay with him. I will gladly bring you in.” Honestly, it would have made Tony feel that much safer, having the boy close to him. He had never imagined that’s where Ben lived, or where he would have taken Peter. <br/>     Peter looked over at Ben, who was watching Happy anxiously. “I can’t do that to him. I know he’s…different…but he’s really lonely. He’s the only relative I have left. Maybe give it a while longer, and if it doesn’t work out, I’ll move in with you. Is that ok?” Peter asked. <br/>“You have only to contact me, and I’ll come get you.” He said. “I promise.” </p>
<p>     Peter said goodbye to his friends who were quite pissed that he was now living in a place with literally no connection so they would not be able to contact him in any way short of visiting. He glanced back at Stark before he got in the car and they drove away. An air of triumph seemed to come off of Ben, but Peter wondered if he was just imagining that.<br/>     They got back to the house and he felt so depressed. Ben seemed to sense that. “Hey. Let’s go out to the town for a bit. I’ll show you around.” He said. <br/>     They drove to the town and they went to a diner to get a quick bite before Ben showed him around the rest of the town. There was a small theater, several diners, a salon, and a couple of shopping centers and grocery stores. Nothing big like he was used to in NYC. <br/>     Ben took him to an arcade arena and they played games for a while, and if Peter was honest with himself, he was having a good time. It was so good to just be out of that house. But all things must come to an end, and late that evening they got back to the house. Peter was pretty wiped out from everything that happened that day, and even so, the grief was always there, gnawing at his subconscious. He refused to bring the thoughts to light that the grief so greedily fed on. He kept them buried deep. But he knew they would come up again unexpected. But for now, he was glad to just take a shower and get to bed. </p>
<p>     It had been 2 months since Peter moved in with Ben, and already he was beginning to wonder when he would enroll in school. <br/>     When Ben got home from work he asked him about it. They were sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner. “When can I go to school?” He asked. <br/>     Ben looked at him. “Never thought I would hear a kid ask that.” He said as he ate his food. <br/>     “School is better than hanging out in here all day every day.” He sighed. “Plus, I’ll never get to college on time if I don’t continue with high school.” <br/>    “Don’t worry. I’ll get you into a school.” He said. “It’s kinda far though, and no busses will transport you within five miles of here. So you’d be doing a lot of walking. Or I could drive you to the stop on the way to work.” He said thoughtfully. <br/>     Peter watched him, playing around with his food. “I just…” He rubbed his face and set down his fork. “I’m just tired… and I want to get out and see people. I want to do something instead of sitting around.” <br/>     Ben nodded in understanding. “I’ll try to get you out more. Don’t worry. I know this is tough for you, being so far away from people after growing up with an abundance of people all around you. But once you get used to this, it’s not bad. Just you and nature, living off the land, mostly.” He smiled, as if trying to get Peter to see what he was seeing. But to Peter, it did not sound fun, just him and nature. He missed social media, and his friends, and the internet. He didn’t know how Ben was out here without the internet. <br/>     Ben’s eyes held a sudden flash of light in them. “Actually, speaking of people, I’m having some friends from work over on Friday night. It’ll be fun, there’ll be beer and games and stuff. Just hanging out. You’re more than welcome to be with us.” He said as he picked up his empty plate and took it to the sink. Peter didn’t know how he felt about that, but he figured it couldn’t be that bad. It would be some people to talk to, at least. </p>
<p>     That Friday night arrived, and Peter was in his room reading his book for the fifth time when there was a knock on the door. He heard his uncle’s footsteps cross the house from the kitchen to the door and open it. Ben’s voice was mixed with the voices of the unknown people at the door, there sounded like there were two other men. They had gruff voices, lots of guffawing. Before an hour was over, there had been four more knocks, and a total of eight people arrived. Peter didn’t know how many coworkers Ben had in all, but this was quite a few to work with and call ‘friends’. But Ben could have over whoever he wanted. It was his house, his rules. Even though he had been feeling very lonely and there was a huge lack of social interaction at this current time in his life, Peter felt suddenly that he didn’t want to go out there. He felt that these people were not the kind that he wanted to mix with. He did not know exactly what Ben did for a living, but he knew it was a labor-intensive job with people that were probably high school drop-outs that did not mind sweating for hours on end. He could imagine that they were probably a rather crude bunch. But it got late, and he was really hungry. He figured he would go out and get something to eat and bring it back to his room. He had no idea how long these guys were going to stay. He opened his door tentatively and left the room, going down the hall timidly, like a frightened rabbit. He hated that he felt like this. He was Spider-Man for goodness’ sake. Why could he not just walk out with confidence and show them that he was his own man and could take care of himself? Because he was 16, and he knew he was not a man yet. And they would not see him as a man. He finally left the safety of the dark hallway and walked out into the light of the living room. There were three men on the couch, watching the tv and hollering at each other about whatever was on the screen, probably a sport. Ben was standing near the chair, and laughing with two of the other guys about how dumb their boss was, and others were scattered around. They noticed Peter very quickly because he was stood out so much. When Ben noticed where the attention was drawn to, he walked over to Peter. <br/>     “Hey everyone! This is my nephew, Peter. He’s been staying with me.” He announced. Peter hated the spotlight. Several of the men nodded a greeting in his direction while a couple walked up to him and shook his hand. Peter smiled genuinely at the gesture, thinking maybe these guys were alright. He finally excused himself from Ben and went to the kitchen to grab some stuff to take to his room. But once it was noticed that he was going to leave with what he had, some of the men encouraged him to stay out with them. He insisted that he was tired and needed to go back, but they insisted more. And before he knew what was happening, he was sitting in the couch between two of the men. He ate some of his food as he listened to them, and told them about himself in return. <br/>     “You look like a very nice boy, Peter Parker.” One of them said. “Here, I have this for you.” They had all brought their own alcohol to share. <br/>     Peter turned it down. “I’m not 21.” He said. <br/>     They guffawed in response. “How innocent he is!” One laughed. “Aw come on. Normal kids your age sneak out to get a drink when they can. We’re offering it to you, mate. Just have this one.” <br/>     One man chuckled. “This isn’t beer, my friend. This is moonshine.” He nodded importantly. <br/>     Peter took the glass in his hands and looked at it, and then looked at them. “Moonshine? I thought that was just a southern thing. Like in Kentucky or something.” <br/>     They all laughed. “It is unless they can sneak it up here. Although it’s not illegal in some states.” They teased him. <br/>     Peter was being peer pressured, but he hardly even registered it that way. He figured this was what men did when they got together, and he did not want to be the one in the corner with the juice box. Even if he was Spider-Man and held himself to a higher standard of morality. But it became too much when they were all chanting at him to drink his glass. It was quite a lot, Peter noticed as he looked at it. He gave a smile and then started to drink it. He had never tasted alcohol before. Ever. And this was shocking. He almost choked but he drank some more until he got about three-fourths of the way down. Finally he stopped, taking a breath and smiled brightly at how the men cheered at him. <br/>     Moonshine mixed with no food in the system make for an extremely dangerous combination. He stayed out with them for a little while but finally decided it was time for him to go. He consciously felt that his spidey senses were dulled. They were not working as they should have. Everything was foggy and distant and almost in slow motion. He giggled a little, and it was quite sudden. The men found it was hysterical. Peter sat up, nearly falling over. He was looking around for Ben, but he could not see him. What he did not know was that Ben had left with two of the guys to show off his gun collection in the shed. It was his pride and joy. <br/>     Peter stood up and stumbled into one of the men who had intentionally put himself there so Peter would not fall over. “Come on, boy. Time for bed for you.” He said. He pushed Peter up, and would have picked him up off his feet if Peter hadn’t waved him off. “I can do it.” He mumbled almost incoherently. He felt how uncoordinated his steps were and how slow he was. He was not walking in a straight line, and he finally felt the man’s hand on his arm, which gently pulled him down toward the dark hallway. Peter followed the man, curling an arm around his arm for balance. But all too late, he felt his spidey senses suddenly explode. As if he had been sensing danger the whole time but it never got to his brain until just now, causing the build-up of it to explode like water from a dam. He suddenly gasped, and made to pull away. But the man had a firm grip on him and pulled him into his bedroom and shut the door behind them. Peter heard the dull click of the lock. “Hey, it’s ok. You’re going to feel weird at first, it’s all part of the process.” He said. <br/>     Peter stumbled a little, trying to force himself to regain his senses enough to stand up straight. “No…what are you doing?” He asked, his words were slurred. The man walked over to him, and Peter backed up until his back touched the opposite wall near the window. The man closed in and he pressed his body against Peter’s, pinning the boy between him and the wall. Peter gasped, pushing against him but his efforts were so weak. He could hardly speak from not knowing what was happening, and the fear he was experiencing through his delayed senses. <br/>     The man kept him pinned and then lifted Peter’s shirt up over his head and dropped it. “You’re a beautiful boy, you know.” He said, seeing the boy’s build. <br/>     “Stop…no—” Peter mumbled feeling like he wasn’t entirely sure what was happening. He was suddenly taken off the wall, strong hands on his arm and side, and his world suddenly tilted as he was pushed into the bed facing down. The metal bed frame screeched, and the man suddenly stopped, listening to the sounds outside the room. No one seemed to notice anything, as all the voices out there were the same. He didn’t like how the bed frame sounded like that, so he grabbed the blankets off the bed and put them on the floor, and soon scooped the boy up and put him down, facing down on the floor. Peter’s vision was going fuzzy as was his hearing, and he didn’t know if he was going to be conscious for that much longer. He couldn’t pass out. He couldn’t. Or the unspeakable and more would happen to him. <br/>     “Please- stop!” He gasped, but he could not scream. He could not call for help. It was like those nightmares that he had periodically, where he couldn’t run, couldn’t scream, and couldn’t fight. He did not want to think how much smaller than this man he physically was. In a confrontation like this, size and weight was everything. He felt the weight of the man on his back, pinning him to the floor and he gave a soft sob, grabbing at thin air, for anything that would help him. But it was just the wooden floorboards. He was just conscious enough to know that he still had his jeans on, the man had not taken them off. But suddenly the man started to move against him as if doing the actual act, just with clothes on. Knowing that this man was not yet going to go farther, he felt himself give in slightly to the call of unconsciousness. He was still conscious, but only just. Just enough to feel the man dry-humping him, pinning him to the floor and making his body shake. He felt a large hand on his body, feeling him up, feeling his muscular chest and shoulders, keeping him down underneath him. Peter stared at the opposite side of the room, listening to the man groaning as he did this. <br/>     After what felt like an eternity, the man stopped and Peter felt his weight lessen off of him and the man stood up. Peter was speechless. He felt so gross, and still not fully conscious. He was so intoxicated. <br/>     “Don’t say a word of this to your uncle, you hear?” The man told him. “You say anything, I will kill both you and him. He’s not the only one with a gun collection.” He said. Peter didn’t respond, he just felt the tears run down to the ground as he stayed where he was, seeing only the man’s boots. <br/>     The man watched him for a minute, but decided he had been through enough. “I’ll see you later.” He smiled and walked out of the room, rejoining the party out there as if nothing happened. Peter stayed on the floor and finally gave in to the alcohol and passed out right where he was.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Peter talks to MJ and Ned for the first time in several months, and Ben still won't send him to school.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 5</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     Peter woke up to a dull thumping sound. It was repeated in sets of three. And then a voice. “Peter, you up? It’s almost 11 o’clock, you alright?” It was Ben’s voice. Peter’s head was throbbing, the symptom of the hangover. He opened his eyes but promptly shut them again against the light streaming in through the window. The knocking pierced his hearing again and he was forced to answer. “Yeah, yeah I’m up. Gimme a minute..” He mumbled. Suddenly the door opened and Ben peered in. He was surprised to see Peter on the floor. “Did you fall out of bed?” He walked over to him. <br/>     In that instant, everything that happened last night came back to Peter. He was so drunk that he did not remember a lot of it, but the feeling of utter disgust and fear was still hanging around him like a nightmare. And at first, he wondered if that was all it had been, a nightmare. But one look around at his position on the floor where it happened, in just his jeans, he knew it had not been a dream. He didn’t even register that Ben was standing there, watching him curiously and questioning him. Peter sat up, holding his head and feeling really nauseous, the memories of last night replaying in his head. That man had threatened to kill him and Ben if he said anything. He looked around, and then shut his eyes against the light. That’s when he felt two hands on him, gently starting to pick him up off the floor. He panicked, having instant flashbacks of being touched and he fought against Ben, struggling against his hold. <br/>     “Hey whoa! Whoa- it’s ok. It’s ok.” Ben said. “What happened? What’s the matter?” He asked. <br/>     Peter was sweating but he just shook his head. “Sorry- I’m-I’m ok I just…” He suddenly felt really sick. He got up and stumbled to the bathroom where he knelt in front of the toilet and heaved up everything he had in his system from yesterday. <br/>     Ben chalked it all up to his never having been drunk before, so he knew the kid might be a little freaked. He walked into the bathroom and got a clean cloth and wet it in the sink, and used it to help him clean up. “Happens to the best of us, champ. I heard you were quite a hit with the guys last night.” He teased. “They really liked you.” He said, thinking it would be taken as a compliment, but it was only met with more dry-heaving. He patted Peter’s back and then left the bathroom to let him recover on his own. </p>
<p>     Peter laid in bed the rest of the day and didn’t really leave his room. The place finally stopped spinning and he could open his eyes without a searing headache. Ben brought him some food sometimes but he refused to eat, feeling too sick from the hangover, or sick from what happened, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He felt destroyed and disgusted. He took around 3 showers that day but it didn’t help his mind and heart that were in turmoil. <br/>     Ben never really picked up on the fact that anything terribly amiss might have happened to Peter while he was out showing his friends his gun collection in the shed. He just knew that those guys were his friends, and he didn’t think about anything like that. He thought that what was bothering Peter was the fact that he hadn’t wanted to drink, but he was pressured into doing so anyway. <br/>     “Hey buddy.” Ben sat down on the edge of Peter’s bed. The boy was curled up, his hoodie up over his head, burying himself in the blankets. “I don’t know what you have against alcohol, but I swear to you, next time something like that comes up, I won’t let them pressure you like they did last night. I know you feel terrible, but it goes away. If you don’t want drink it, you don’t have to drink it, end of story. You shouldn’t ever do what you don’t wanna do.” He told him, reaching out and touching Peter’s arm. The boy flinched, but just nodded in agreement to what Ben was saying. He knew Ben meant well. He just had to bear this burden himself until it got lighter. He could not risk that man coming back and hurting Ben or him. Ben got up and left the room. <br/>     Peter had fallen asleep off and on through the day, and he came out once to use the bathroom and then go out to see what Ben was doing. He heard wood being chopped, and he went to the window and peered out. When it got really really cold, and Ben did not want to spend money on more heating for the house, he would chop up firewood and put it in the wood stove in the kitchen . That worked to heat up the house without the massive bill coming through. He watched Ben chop up the wood and collect the sections, and move toward the door. Peter moved away from the window and felt so nervous. He didn’t know why. He ran over to the living room and plopped into the couch right as the front door opened.<br/>     “Hey champ!” Ben smiled when he saw him. <br/>     Peter had his hood on, and his legs were curled up under him as he curled into the couch. “Hey. You need help bringing wood in?” He asked.<br/>     Ben shook his head. “Naw man, you stay there. It’s freezing out there.” He went to the wood stove and started lighting it up. <br/>     Peter turned his attention back to the TV, settling into the couch again. Eventually Ben walked in and sat down with him, cracking open a beer. <br/>     Peter looked at him for a minute. “I want to go to school.” He said suddenly. Ben set down his beer, watching the TV for a minute. Peter didn’t think he had heard him for a minute, but then Ben spoke. “I told you, I’ll get you registered into the school. I just need some time.” He said. <br/>     Peter furrowed his brows a little. “Time for what? Ben, the school semester starts next month. I know it’ll be the middle of the year but I’ll be ok jumping in. I’ll walk myself to school every day if I have to, you don’t need to worry about that. Please just get me registered. I’ll even get a job so I can buy the books and stuff.” He pleaded. <br/>     Ben sat up a little straighter and looked at him. “I have never heard a kid beg to go to school. You’re not that much of a ‘good kid’ are you? Nobody likes school.” <br/>     Peter stared at him. “I want to meet new people, kids my age. I want to have some friends. I want to get out.” He huffed a little, crossing his arms. <br/>     Ben nodded. “I understand that. I’ll enroll you in school, and I’ll drive you to the bus stop. Don’t worry.” <br/>     Peter didn’t respond this time, happy with that answer. He just hoped Ben pulled through and actually did it. </p>
<p>     It was now four months since Peter moved in with Ben. And honestly, it was the longest four months of Peter’s life. Ben took Peter into town again one weekend and they played at the arcade for a bit. Ben dropped Peter off at the small bookstore to hang out while he picked some things up and did the shopping. Peter brought his laptop with him and he was able to video-call his friends. Ned was first. <br/>     “Dude, it’s so good to see you.” Ned said. He had been struggling since Peter left. School was more unbearable than ever without him. Ned was very shocked when he learned that Peter had still not been enrolled in a school.<br/>     “Peter, that’s crazy. How will you ever graduate on time?” <br/>     Peter shook his head. “That’s not so much the big problem anymore, Ned. I’ll graduate eventually, even if I have to apply and pay for it myself when I move out at 18. And I’m coming back to NYC. I can’t stand it out here.”<br/>     It was so good to hear from Ned that it almost made him cry. He missed everyone so dearly. “Mr. Stark told me I only have to contact him and he will come down and pick me up. I…I really want to. It would make me feel so much better. But…I can’t do that to Ben. He’s really lonely up here and…I see that me being here with him just makes him really happy. I don’t want to hurt him like that…by leaving him.” <br/>     “You just gotta do what you think is best. You may not want to hurt someone you love but you gotta ask…are they good for you?” Ned told him seriously. “We love our family, Peter but sometimes people can be toxic.” <br/>     Peter nodded at the truth in his words. “I just can’t believe he’s the last living relative I have.” He ran a hand through his hair. <br/>     After a while he hung up with Ned, and then called MJ. He gave her the rundown of what was happening. She figured sometime she and Ned could take a trip up and visit him. But it occurred to Peter that he didn’t even know the address of the house. So he could not tell her where to meet him. “I’ll have to ask Ben. Then when I’m back in town where there’s internet, I’ll send the address to you.” <br/>     “That’s really crappy.” MJ commented. “You’re literally living in Amish style. No offense to the Amish.” She added as a quick note. <br/>     Peter smiled. His chin was resting on his hand. “I really miss you, you know.” He told her. <br/>     She just smirked. “I know. I miss you too, dork.” <br/>     He smiled brighter. “I’m coming back. The minute I turn 18, I’m outta here and coming back to NYC. I promise.” <br/>     MJ narrowed her eyes. “You sure you won’t find any hillbilly rough mountain girl in the school up there?”<br/>     “Never. There’s no rough, hillbilly, mountain girl that’s better than you.” <br/>     “I love you. I’ll see you soon.” She told him, even though she didn’t know when she would see him next. But she knew this would not be the end for them. <br/>     “I love you too.” He ended the call, and just felt overwhelmed with happiness, but also grief at being lonely here. <br/>     Ben was not back yet, and so he scrolled through his contacts to see if there was anyone else he could call. He glanced at Tony’s name and number, and paused for a minute. All he had to do was call. And he would be out of here. </p>
<p>     He decided not to, which would prove to be one of the worst mistakes he ever made. </p>
<p>     He scrolled down and came to May Parker, and his heart clenched. He could not call her and tell her how his life was flipped upside down. How he was living with her brother and that things were scary and lonely here. Here he didn’t feel like a superhero at all. The news was all over the fact that Spider-Man was gone in NYC, or anywhere for that matter, and no one was there to stop petty criminals. <br/>     He felt tears in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. At that moment he noticed Ben walk in, and he started packing his stuff up. </p>
<p>     “Hey Ben, what’s our house address?” He asked suddenly. He was sitting on the couch again, reading a new book he bought. <br/>     “Hm?” Ben replied, putting groceries away in the kitchen. <br/>     “My friends are wondering what the house address is so that maybe they can come up and visit sometime.” He said. <br/>     There was a moment of silence, but he finally spoke. “It’s not really safe to be driving up here this time of year. It’s really dangerous, and the ice is thicker.” He said. <br/>     Great. Another beat-about-the-bush answer. Ben had been doing that a lot lately. Peter got up and walked over to the table in the hallway close to the door and picked up some mail, looking at the address. He memorized it and put it down, just in time to see Ben peep over and see what he was doing. “Yeah, I was about to tell you, but you got it.” He said. <br/>     Peter just nodded suspiciously but didn’t say anything about it. “I’m gonna..go to bed now.” He knew it was still kinda early, but he just wanted to turn in for now. <br/>     Ben nodded. “Alright kid. Goodnight.” He went back into the kitchen.<br/>     Peter went into his room and plopped down on his bed, picking up his phone and scrolling through the photos on it, smiling at the ones with his friends, and feeling his heart break when he found the ones with May. He wanted to get back to the town as soon as possible so he could send his address to MJ and Ned. But he had no idea when Ben would take him back there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Peter and Ben get into a car accident on a snowy road and take shelter in a hunter's cabin.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I decided not to make Luke French because I was not about to type all that French. I still stuck to his character's temperament though. Terry is a new one, I added him for suspense.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 6</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     It was getting closer and closer to Christmas, and Peter wondered if they would be doing anything for it. So far there were no decorations or anything. Peter knew that when Ben lived by himself he probably did not even think about Christmas. But it seemed that would change. <br/>     Ben came back from work with a big pine-tree strapped to the roof of his car. Peter opened the front door as Ben walked up. “Surprise!” He said excitedly to Peter. “Our Christmas tree!” He looked so pleased with himself. <br/>     Peter looked at it and felt a smile spread across his face. <br/>     “Come on, help me get it down.” Ben said and he started to fiddle with the straps that bound the tree to the vehicle. Peter slipped his shoes on and got out in the snow and went around to the other side of the car to help him get the tree down. They finally got it unstrapped, and with Ben holding onto the base of the trunk, and Peter getting semi-impaled by the tip of the tree, they hauled it inside and set it up with the support stands Ben had. <br/>     They stood back to admire it and did some minor adjusting. “I picked up some decorations for it too, some lights and stuff.” Ben said. <br/>     Peter smiled brightly. “I didn’t think you would do anything for Christmas. You don’t seem like the type to do that kind of thing.” <br/>     Ben shrugged. “Well I felt that it might make things more…homey for you if I brought in some decorations and stuff. I’m guessing May went all out at Christmas time?”<br/>     Peter looked at him. “Yeah…yeah she did.” There was a moment of sad tension, but nothing uncomfortable. They went out to the car and got out the decorations Ben brought home. They turned on some music and Peter started hanging the ornaments on the tree and Ben poured the eggnog into small glasses, spiking his own glass with Bailey’s Irish cream. He spiked Peter’s a little just to see if he would notice. He felt slightly weird doing it, but he was curious. He handed Peter his glass and watched him drink some of it. And the kid carried on like normal, not noticing anything off about it. But as the night went on and they had a couple glasses, Peter was really giggly and laughed a lot more easily. Ben had never seen Peter this carefree, letting go with his emotions quite like this. And he loved it. They were both goofing off, singing along to the music, and at one point, Ben had Peter up on his shoulders to reach the very top of the tree to put the star on it. When Peter finally reached it they both cheered, and Ben put him down. <br/>     Ben realized in this moment that Peter was everything to him. This boy had turned his life around, and gave him something to keep going for. He didn’t feel like he had a reason before. Now he did. This boy was everything to him. He knew at this moment that he couldn’t lose him. He had to do whatever he could in his power to keep Peter with him.     He couldn’t lose him. <br/>      Around the fourth glass, Ben had stopped spiking Peter’s, not wanting him to feel anything from it later. He just wanted to know what kind of tipsy he was, he guessed. He supposed he would tell him later. But Peter never noticed his attitude change, and he didn’t even realize he had lost coordination a little bit. All he knew was that this evening was a good one, and for once he was not lonely and aching. It had been forever since he felt that way.  Since he felt normal. They retired to their rooms past one in the morning, feeling like it had been an evening well spent. </p>
<p>     The next day, Peter woke up feeling a lot better than he normally did. He felt like there was some real spirit around. It was Saturday, which meant that Ben would be home all day. He wondered if perhaps he would drive him into town. Then he could send his address to MJ and Ned. He was dying to see them sometime and really hoped they came up and visited. Or sent letters, or something silly like that. He got out of bed and went into the kitchen to get the coffee pot started and get breakfast going. <br/>     Suddenly the front door opened and Peter froze. He thought Ben was in bed still. He set down the coffee pot and walked over to the hallway that looked onto the front door. It was Ben. “Oh- hey. I thought you were asleep.” Peter said, relieved and feeling a little stupid that he had gotten all defensive. <br/>     Ben walked in, shaking the snow from his boots. “Hey, get your clothes on and get some breakfast. I’ve got a surprise for you.” He said. <br/>     Peter wanted to question, but he figured he would find out soon enough. He went into the kitchen and finished pouring a bowl of cereal and a coffee and sat down, scarfing it down real quick before going off to his room to get into some clothes.<br/>     Ben ate his breakfast and then made sure Peter got into his coat and hat and gloves before he took him outside to the car. “Hop in, we’re driving for a while. We’re gonna stop by one of the gas stations out here to pick up some road snacks.” <br/>     Peter looked at him, a hand on the handle of the car door. “Road snacks? Are we going on a trip?” He asked. His eyes widened. “Are we going into town?” He asked excitedly. <br/>     “Nope. Even better.” Ben said, opening his car door. “Come on, you’ll see.” He said. </p>
<p>     They drove down the road for a half an hour when they finally came to the gas station. Ben sent Peter inside with his credit card to get some snacks. “Hey, don’t forget the beer. Tell them it’s for me.” He said as he worked on putting some gas in the car. Once Peter was inside, Ben looked at the passenger seat and saw Peter’s phone was lying there. He picked it up and looked at it. It had a lock on it. No matter. <br/>     Peter came back bags of stuff and got into the car. Soon they were off, and Peter handed the card back to Ben. “How much was it?” Ben asked. <br/>     “Sixty something.” Peter said, and then bit his lip to hide a laugh as he realized what he said sounded like a whole lot. <br/>     “Sixty something? What did you buy?” He asked, astounded. <br/>     “Ya know…snacks and stuff.” Peter said, smiling mischievously. <br/>     Ben shook his head but smiled a little in amusement. <br/>     They had been driving for a little while and Peter suddenly started looking around himself frantically, searching his pockets and the seat around him. “Crap…where’s my phone?” He asked, feeling panic rise in him. Did he leave it in the gas station? Maybe it fell on the ground in the lot by the pump… but Ben’s voice put him to ease, at least a little. <br/>     “Your precious phone is safe.”<br/>     Peter narrowed his eyes at him and let out a huff. “What? You can’t just take it. I left it in the seat.” <br/>     “I know. But this is a time without electronics. Just us and the land!” He smiled. “Come on, Pete. Detox for a little while.” He said, glancing at Peter who looked a little pissed. But Peter understood his point and eventually nodded, even though reluctantly. “Yeah, ok fine.” He sighed. </p>
<p>     They drove for a long time, and Peter eventually fell asleep, his head rested against the window. They drove on snow-covered roads that wound through thick forests. There was nobody around for miles and miles. Ben pulled up to a place that was surrounded by lots of chopped logs and parked the car. When the car jolted to a stop, Peter woke up, snorting a little. He brushed his hair out of his face and looked around. “Where are we?” <br/>     “We are at a nice little place that’s really out of the way.” Ben said, going around to the trunk of the car.<br/>     Peter got out of the car and walked over to where Ben was, just in time to see him pull a rifle out of the trunk. His eyes widened. “Whoa.”<br/>     Ben smiled, and there was a light in his eyes. “You are going to learn how to shoot a gun today.” He said confidently. “It’ll do you some good.” He shut the trunk and got out the ammo. <br/>     Peter watched him. “I don’t really know if I want to…” He said. <br/>     Ben looked at him. “Sure you do. Every man should know how to use and respect a firearm. Come here.” <br/>     Peter didn’t dare disobey. He shuffled through the snow and over to him. Ben taught him about the safety and how to load it, and how to hold it when at rest, and when ready to fire. He lined up some empty beer cans on a log for practice. “Alright. Hold it up, like that. You’re gonna want to hold it snug.” He said. <br/>     Peter had seen how people held guns. In movies and in real life. He aimed at the can in the center and finally pulled the trigger. He didn’t have it quite snug enough, and the gun bucked back into his shoulder, sending him backward into the snow. He gasped in shock, and Ben was laughing. “I told you ya gotta keep it snug!” He laughed. Peter got up, rubbing his sore shoulder, scowling a little. But in general, Peter was a good sport, and soon he was holding the rifle again. Now he knew what to expect. He widened his stance and then aimed the rifle again. Ben lightly adjusted his position and helped him get the best angle to hit a target. Peter had amazing coordination and target practice abilities because of his web slingers. He had to have impeccable aim so as not to fall from a skyscraper in the city. It was not long before he was hitting all the cans off the log. Ben was so impressed, he could hardly contain himself. <br/>     “Nice shot!” Ben praised him, running over to collect the cans and set new ones in their places. He cracked open a beer from the ones they bought at the gas station and offered Peter a sip, which he politely declined. Peter was working on reloading the gun. He felt maybe it was more dangerous than not to be drinking while shooting a gun. Plus the memory of the taste of alcohol made him nauseous and brought back memories of that dark night.  <br/>     Suddenly, a white rabbit crossed their paths. Ben wanted him to shoot it, but Peter lowered the gun, shook his head, and took a couple steps backward. Ben looked at him incredulously. “Why not? Are you that soft?” He asked. <br/>     Peter looked at him, and then the rabbit. “That’s a life that needn’t be wasted. It wouldn’t serve any purpose. Even the purpose of satisfaction. Not for me.” He told Ben. <br/>     “You’re not some vegan hippie are you?” He asked. <br/>     Peter scowled at him. “I eat meat, you know that. And I’m not a hippie. I just don’t see the point in killing something for pure sport.” He said. “I mean, we’re not even going to eat it after, so it literally serves no purpose. To kill it and just leave it is a waste.” <br/>     By now the rabbit had moved on and was safely out of range. Ben just sighed and nodded. “Sure. Whatever. We should probably go now. It’s getting dark.” He said. They packed the trunk and put their stuff away. Peter looked at Ben as he reached the driver’s side. “You’ve been drinking.” He said. <br/>     Ben thought for a minute, then he finally made the connection. He held up the car keys in front of Peter. “You drive.” He said. <br/>     Peter’s eyes widened and he balked for a minute. He looked at the car and then back at his uncle. “I’ve never driven before.” <br/>     “About time you learn then, huh?” Ben smirked. “Come on. I’ll teach you, it’ll be alright.” He pushed the keys into Peter’s hands. <br/>     Once they were in the car, Peter put the key in the ignition and turned it on. Ben nodded. “Nice. Ok you’re gonna wanna pull up real slow, we’re on a bit of an incline, and the snow can be pretty slippery. So carefully pull forward and make sure you’re not sliding.” He instructed. <br/>     Peter did as he was told, and he felt like he had pretty good control of the car. He pulled forward and drove slowly until they got back onto the road and he picked up some speed. <br/>     “Now if you have to stop, just press slowly on the breaks. Don’t slam them or we’ll slide.” Ben told him. They drove in silence for some time, and Peter felt what it was to drive for the first time. He smiled brightly, picking up even a little more speed. <br/>     “You’re doing good. Doing great. You good? You want me to take over?” Ben asked. <br/>     Peter shook his head. “Nah I’m good.”<br/>     They had been driving for another 15 minutes when suddenly Ben jerked. “Watch out!” He pointed to the left side of the road. A deer suddenly bounded into the road in front of the car. Peter forgot what he was told earlier and on instinct, slammed the breaks and turned the wheel violently to the right to avoid the car. The car was an inch away from flipping. It veered off the road and slide right into the deer, which was swept off its feet and tumbled on top of the car and rolled off the other side and onto the road. The car did a spin and then finally careened down off the shoulder of the road and into the ditch, slamming into a tree there. <br/>     For Peter, everything went black. When he finally came to, he heard Ben’s voice calling him. “Wake up Peter. Come on, wake up.” It was coming from his left, which meant Ben had gotten out of the car and was at his car side. He felt Ben unbuckle him and slowly lift him out of the car and lay him down on the ground. He opened his eyes and looked up, seeing his uncle above him. <br/>     “Your head…your head’s bleeding…” Peter mumbled to Ben. Ben didn’t care about himself at this moment. He was just glad to hear Peter talk. <br/>     “You’re ok. You’re ok.” He said breathlessly. “Does anything hurt?” He asked. <br/>     Peter was silent of a moment has he took an inventory of all his limps and made sure nothing was broken. He shook his head. “My head hurts, but I guess that’s normal.” He realized he had been knocked out upon impact. He sat up suddenly. “The car—how’s the car?” He asked. He saw that the whole front was smashed from T-boning a tree, and it was deep in the snow. There was no way they were going to be able to get that out even if it did turn on. Ben sighed as he surveyed the car. “It doesn’t look good. It’s probably gonna be stuck here.” <br/>     Peter got up and went around the car and back to the road to see if the deer was there. It was gone. Must have run off the minute it hit the ground. </p>
<p>     They tried several different tactics to try to get the car out of the snow. They were glad to find that the car started. And with Peter on the gas, and Ben pushing the front of it to try and back up, they were almost successful in getting it to move. But the incline of the ditch up to the road was so tall that Ben knew they would never get it out of there. <br/>     Even if they managed to get the car out, there was another problem. When the crash happened and Peter veered off the road, the boy had turned the steering wheel so tight that the wheel nearly broke off the turning mechanism and was kinda hanging sadly to one side. Ben blamed it on the fact they crashed into the tree. But Peter knew it was because he didn’t control his own strength and he almost quite literally ripped the wheel off the car. There were imprints on the actual wheel where he had gripped it so tightly. But Peter did not mention that part, he just hoped his uncle would not notice that.<br/>     Peter watched him as the man stared up at the road from where he stood. “What now?” He asked. It was already pretty dark out, and Ben knew they would get lost trying to go anywhere. So he went over and opened the trunk and started laying down the back seats. “We stay here tonight, and in the morning we move on foot.” Peter got out to help him, and before long they made a nest of blankets in the back seat. They padded the windows with the carpets to keep out the chill. Peter was already shivering. Ben sat down in the back with him and they huddled under some blankets. Occasionally they turned the heat on, but they couldn’t leave it running all night. <br/>     Peter really wished he had not left his suit back at the house. Not that he could use it out here, it just brought him a lot of comfort to have it. </p>
<p>     “Why don’t you have a phone? I mean, a mobile phone.” Peter asked. Ben had a landline, and that was the only thing that could connect to the outside world.<br/>     “Don’t see the point in them. I learn what’s going on from the news on the tv, but that’s all I need. Don’t have anyone to call anyway.”<br/>     That sounded horribly depressing. “So…you just go to work, come home, go to work, come home…and that’s it?”<br/>     “I hang out with my coworkers. Sometimes after a shift we’ll all go out and get some drinks or whatever. But yeah, that’s basically it. And nobody bothers me. Much.” He chuckled. He sensed the silence that he was met with and he looked at his nephew. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I know you kids are addicted to your screens and texting, but when you let all of that go, and you just get in tune with what’s around you, it’s really freeing. Like right now, don’t have anything else to worry about. It’s just us.” <br/>     Peter raised an eyebrow. “Who’s the hippie now?” He teased. <br/>     Ben rolled his eyes. “In the morning we’ll go and see what there is to see. I’ll think of something.” He said and soon rolled over and drifted off to sleep. <br/>     Peter couldn’t sleep for the longest time. He just stared at the ceiling, trying to keep in as much body heat as possible. </p>
<p>     The next morning, Peter woke up frigid cold. He sat up and tried to get the car going, but the engine rolled over and stalled. He cursed softly and sat back up, looking over and saw that Ben was not there. How had he left the car and not woken him up? Peter shivered and got out of the blankets, moved toward the door of the trunk and opened it. He got out and looked around, but saw that no one was there. “Ben?” He called, crossing his arms in front of himself in a hug to try and keep himself warm. “Ben!” He called again, going around to the other side of the car and looked through the snow for tracks. But it was currently snowing, so he did not know if maybe it would have covered up any tracks by now. Depends on how long ago Ben left. <br/>     Peter shivered and was just about to start walking toward the highway (or where he thought the highway was bound to be) he heard twigs snapping and snow crunching. He looked over and it was Ben walking through the woods toward him. “Hey champ. Sorry, meant to be back sooner.” Ben said as he got to the car and opened the trunk. <br/>     “Where have you been?” Peter asked as he walked back over. <br/>     “I know where we are now. We’re up in some pretty popular hunting territory, and there’s a cabin not far from here. That’s our best bet, we gotta get there before nightfall.” Ben said, almost in a hurried way as he collected the blankets and backpacks. <br/>     Peter stared at him. “W-wait, how is that our best bet? We should find the highway and get help from there.” He said.<br/>     Ben shook his head. “No, trust me. This is a lot better. Come on.” He said, and started walking off. Peter followed him, and Ben handed him a blanket or two to carry. They trudged along in the snow, winding their way through the trees. <br/>     “Why is this such a popular hunting place? There’s nothing here.” He said. He did not know what he expected there to be. But he didn’t picture this. <br/>     “No, Pete this is popular hunting grounds because it’s so far away from everyone. The animals don’t get scared off by any noise so they’re all out here. And sometimes, people will hunt illegally, and it’s perfect to do it out here because no one’s looking out here. It’s so far away from anything.” <br/>     Peter really didn’t like how isolated and cut-off from everyone they were. He looked around, but as Ben said, there was absolutely nothing around to see. </p>
<p>     They walked for a couple of hours and Peter felt like his legs were turning to lead. It was so so cold out, and the snow just would not stop coming down. <br/>     “Wait.” Ben said suddenly, holding an arm out to stop Peter from going any farther. He stomped on the ground they were walking on, and Peter realized that they were now entering a pretty good-sized frozen lake. Ben tested it to see if it was sturdy, and through all his stomping, it held true. They continued their walk. Peter was following behind Ben a yard or so, and he suddenly stopped, listening. A sound was carried on the wind. It sounded like cars, and a road. “Wait— wait a minute stop!” Peter called to Ben and he doubled back and then froze where he was to listen. “Do you hear that?” But after a minute, the sound had died down.<br/>     “It’s gone.” Ben said finally. “Come on. We’re almost at the cabin.” He said. </p>
<p>     Peter felt some relief flood through him when he saw the cabin through the trees a little ways away from the lake.  <br/>     “See?” Ben suddenly laughed. “Told ya! Told ya.” He nudged Peter’s arm and then picked up the pace and walked faster toward the cabin. Peter followed him, but then suddenly slid a little in the snow. That was odd. There was a divot in the ice. He moved on a couple more steps, but then suddenly, the ice beneath him broke and he went down fast. Ben heard the sound of his voice suddenly cut off. He turned around and saw that Peter was not there. But a giant hole was. <br/>     It was one of the scariest moments of Peter’s life. He swam back up, but he was suddenly met with ice above him. He tried not to panic, but it was so hard to see in the water because it was so cold. He swam along the ice, not knowing if he was even going the right direction. He pounded his fist on the thick roof above him but it didn’t budge. <br/>     Ben ran to the hole in the ice and slid in on his stomach. He could see Peter where he was below the ice, but he was getting farther away from the hole. Ben got down into the water, and keeping a hand on top of the ice, he reached with his legs for Peter to grab onto him. Peter felt something hit his sides and he freaked out, but found that they were Ben’s legs. He grabbed a hold of them and Ben pulled him to the opening and up. <br/>     The air Peter took into his lungs was so sharp and painful, but felt so good. “I’ve got you.” Ben said. “Come on, I gotcha.” Peter was coughing. “Ben! Get me out—!” He flailed in the water, already feeling the motion of his limbs slow down dramatically from the cold. Ben pulled him up out of the water and onto the ice, and then hauled himself up as well. “We gotta get to the cabin.” Ben shivered, his teeth were chattering. They had little time. Ben put his arm around Peter’s back and hauled the boy toward the cabin. Peter was barely making it, his legs were slow to carry him along with Ben to the cabin, and a couple times, Ben had to carry him along, half dragging him up the embankment to the cabin. They got inside and Ben pushed Peter into the center of the room. “Gotta make a fire…” Ben muttered to himself. But the first thing he did was to get Peter out of the soaked and frozen clothes. Layer by layer he went until Peter was kneeling on the floor shirtless. Ben dropped a blanket from the shelf onto the floor to make some kind of make-shift nest, and he took another blanket and wrapped it around Peter several times and pushed him to the floor so he laid down in the nest of blankets (the blankets they brought with them were lying outside in the snow where Ben dropped them). Ben was shivering violently as he took off his own soaked clothing and wrapped himself up in another blanket. Then he went to work as fast as he could to make a fire. There was a wood stove against the wall, and he shoved some wood in there that had already been cut and was sitting against the wall opposite them. He found some matches and soon a nice fire was going. He walked over and picked Peter up, who gasped in pain and confusion, and he brought him close to the fire and just held him, kneeling in front of the open door of the oven. He held Peter to his chest, who was drifting off to sleep, just trying to recover from the loss of that much body heat. <br/>     After a little while of sitting there and warming up, Ben moved again, picking up Peter, this time to put the boy in one of the chairs nearby. He moved it close to the fire and set him in it. Peter moved a little, though his limbs were rather trapped in the blanket so he couldn’t move too much. But he was too out of it to mind at the moment. Ben stoked the fire a little more and then went outside to get the stuff they left out there. He brought in some more wood, and draped another blanket over Peter. The boy coughed a little, waking up some more. They had some snacks left from the gas station in the backpack, and that was what they ate that night. Ben knew he would need to go out the next morning and find them something to eat. <br/>     “Why is this cabin here? It doesn’t belong to anyone?” He asked. <br/>     Ben was sitting in the chair across from him, wrapped in a blanket. “It’s a hunter’s cabin. It’s for anyone to use, and they leave it exactly as they found it when they leave. So we used some wood, meaning I’m gonna chop some up before we leave.” <br/>     “When will that be?” Peter looked at him through the nest of blankets he was in. <br/>     “I don’t know.” Ben admitted. He didn’t look all that well. He looked a bit pale and his eyes were red-rimmed. <br/>     Peter leaned over a little, looking at him more closely. “Uncle Ben?” He asked. “What’s wrong?” He asked. <br/>     Ben didn’t answer at first, but when he did, his voice was thick with emotion. “I fucked up. I really…I fucked up. I almost lost you.”<br/>     “Ben… you didn’t know I was going to fall through the ice. You got me out.” He said. <br/>     Ben seemed to be in his own mind in grief. “I can’t lose you…I can’t…” He mumbled, starting to try to get a hold of himself. <br/>     Peter didn’t know what he was talking about, but he didn’t say anything. </p>
<p>     Ben fell asleep in his chair, and Peter was dozing off as he stared at the fire crackling away. That’s when his senses suddenly spiked up and he heard a noise outside the cabin. He opened his eyes and sat up straighter, looking to the door. “Ben…?” He asked as the noise got louder and closer to the door. “Ben!” Peter stood up, the blankets falling off of him. He had since changed back into his hoodie when it had dried. He didn’t have his web shooters. He cursed and picked up the rifle and held it like how Ben told him to when they were out shooting the day before. Wow, that felt like an eternity ago to him. He cocked the gun and raised it just as the door opened. “Hey!” He yelled at the newcomers. They were three men in hunting gear, huddled against the cold. “Whoa!” One of them yelled when they saw the gun. <br/>     Ben jumped up quickly and held an arm out in front of his nephew to protect him. Peter’s hands were shaking. He would never kill someone, obviously unless he had to. But he knew his webs were not lethal. But this rifle was. Ben stepped in and took the rifle from him and aimed it at the men; his hands were not shaking. The three men held up their hands. “Whoa! Whoa hey easy!” One of them said. “Look, our truck got stuck out there, and we can’t get it moved.” <br/>     Ben watched them suspiciously. “Where’s your truck?” <br/>     “It’s around the bend in a rut a ways away. We saw the lights of the cabin and we came here. Look, I’m Richard, this is Luke, and that’s Terry.” He pointed to each of them. <br/>     Peter looked at Ben, lightly pulling on his arm. “We can’t leave them out there, Ben. It’s too cold.” He looked at him. Ben didn’t move until he glanced at Peter. Finally, he lowered the rifle and nodded. Peter started having a coughing fit. Richard stepped closer to him. “Hey, you want some of this?” He offered him a bottle of liquor. <br/>     Ben’s attention snapped to him immediately. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” He looked at Peter. “Go into the back room and get some sleep.” Peter protested and shook his head, but Ben was not having any of that. “Now.” He said firmly. Peter glanced at the men. Richard was shorter, but he had a kind face and kind eyes. Peter did not feel anything off about him, he trusted his story. Luke was quiet, he didn’t know about him. But his spidey senses were not bothered by him either. He looked at Terry, and he didn’t feel right. He gave him some uncomfortable vibes that he was kinda familiar with. He picked up his blanket and went into the back room. It was the only other room in the cabin besides the small bathroom (which had the meanest plumbing system). It had two windows and a bed (that consisted of a mattress and a thin blanket) and a small stand. The bare essentials. Peter sat down in the bed and listened to the talking outside. Ben shut the door to Peter’s room, and he pulled up a chair outside it and sat down. He held the rifle across his lap, looking surly. <br/>     Peter curled up under the blankets, keeping his gloves and beanie on anyway, and he drifted into a fitful sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adventures in the cabin with the three strangers.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 7</p><p> </p><p>     When Peter woke it was bright outside. Light came in through the thick glass of the windows. He sat up slowly, feeling stiff. Almost at once he was overcome by a violent coughing fit. He got up and left the room once his coughing was under control. There was no one in the main room of the cabin, but he heard voices outside. “I’m starving…” He muttered quietly to himself and left the cabin, going around to where the chopping block was. Luke and Terry were there chopping more firewood and making a pile of it. When they noticed him, they stopped talking and stood there awkwardly.<br/>
“Where’s my uncle?” Peter asked then tentatively.<br/>
Both of them shrugged. Luke looked around. “He left early morning. He hasn’t been back. But don’t worry, I think he will be back soon.”<br/>
Peter nodded gently and looked around as if he might see Ben approaching through the woods. “Hey, where’s your other guy? Richard.”<br/>
“Going to check out the truck to see if he can get it going.” Terry responded. He was collecting the wood that Luke had just chopped and was going to take it inside. “Hey kid, you look hungry. Come here, I got something for you.” He said. He walked inside and Peter followed him in. He was hesitant and stood in the doorway, not quite going inside yet. Terry put down his armload of wood and then stoked up the fire again. He glanced at the boy. “Well come on in, don’t let the heat get out.” He told him. Peter reluctantly edged inside, closing the door behind him. Terry stood up and went to his backpack and pulled out something that was wrapped in tinfoil. “Here. It’s some kind of zucchini bread.” He said and offered it to him. Peter walked over and muttered a thanks as he took the tinfoil and unwrapped it. “Do you want to split it?” Peter asked him. The man shook his head. “Nah man, you can eat it.” Peter nodded his thanks and went to work. He tried to eat slowly but he was so hungry. Terry looked at him. “When was the last time you ate?” He asked.<br/>
“Yesterday we had soda and snacks and stuff. Like road trip snacks from the day before we got stuck.” Peter explained sort of unclearly as he had a full mouth.<br/>
Terry just nodded. “Right. Well if Richard can’t get the truck out, then we might be your room buddies for a while.” He said, giving Peter a smile that the boy didn’t like much. It gave him shivers. “I’m Terry, by the way. I don’t think I got your name.”<br/>
“Oh- I’m Peter.” He said awkwardly. After a long silence he spoke again. “My uncle will be back soon. Um- thank you for this.” He walked back over to the door and let himself out of the cabin. He got another coughing fit from how frigid the air was that he took in, but he recovered quickly enough. He didn’t want to go back inside while Terry was there. But he didn’t want to leave the cabin. He knew Ben would want him to stay. So he hung out with Luke while he chopped wood. </p><p>     It had been several hours and Luke had chopped a substantial amount of wood, rigged up a pole for ice fishing on the lake where he made a hole and left it to catch something, and was finishing up a minor repair to the outside wall of the back of the cabin. He looked around and huffed at the time. “Richard. He should be back.” He looked at Peter, who was sitting on a log nearby. “I’m going to go find him. Wait here, alright?” Luke said, and plodded off through the snow in the direction of his truck. Peter watched him go, wishing that Terry would go with him. Terry was out on the lake’s edge, watching the fishing pole wiggle as the fish nipped at the bait. Peter figured he would lay low and stay quiet so as to not draw any attention to himself.<br/>
Terry eventually got bored with seeing that their rod was catching nothing, and he went back up the slight incline toward the cabin. He saw Luke was gone, but found Peter out back, sitting on the log. “Hey. Where’s Luke?” He asked. He had a thick country accent, really foreign around northern New York. He obviously wasn’t from around here. Come to think of it, Richard had a really southern accent too. Only Luke sounded like he was remotely from around here.<br/>
Peter looked at him, but didn’t move from where he sat. “He went to go help Richard with the truck.” He said.<br/>
Terry walked over and sat down beside him. “Yeah, he’s been gone for a while, not sure what’s taking him so long. So. How’d you get here, kid?” He asked, looking at Peter.<br/>
The boy was pretty uncomfortable but he didn’t want to be mean. He always gave people the benefit of the doubt. “My uncle was teaching me how to shoot, and on the way back, we hit a deer and veered off. Our car is stuck in a ditch. But he knew about the cabin and we hiked over here.” He explained.<br/>
Terry nodded. “So does he have a plan to get out of here? I mean, if your truck is stuck that far away, it’ll be really tough to get anywhere. Especially when it’s this cold. But don’t worry. When we get our truck up and running, we’ll take you guys with us.”<br/>
Peter smiled a little. “Thanks. I’m sure Ben will appreciate that. I do.”<br/>
Suddenly there was a gunshot and Peter stood up quickly. He stared into the forest, looking around, but he knew where the sound came from. He dashed off through the forest toward the sound. “Ben!” He called, really anxious that something might have happened to him.<br/>
“Hey kid!” Terry called, standing up but not going after him. “Peter wait!”<br/>
Peter didn’t listen to Terry. He just ran through the trees, getting closer to where the sound came from. He finally stumbled upon Ben who was kneeling in the snow, digging into a dead deer with a hunting knife.<br/>
“Ben?” Peter asked as he stared at the animal. He had seen animals in the butcher shops or on tv, but nothing like this. It was disturbing, even if he knew this was how it was done.<br/>
Ben looked up and smiled. “Hey Pete, come here. Come here.” He gestured excitedly and Peter walked over. He held the back leg of the animal still so Ben could properly get to work slicing into the creature and gutting it. Peter made a face, but he didn’t back away. “This thing’ll feed us for weeks!” Ben said happily as he took out the intestines and other guts that they wouldn’t need.<br/>
Suddenly there was a sound and Luke came hustling toward them. A sudden mood overtook Ben that confused Peter greatly. Ben stood up quickly and dropped the deer’s leg he was holding and stood protectively in front of Peter. The rifle was in his bloody hands.<br/>
“Richard, he’s not at the truck. Did you not see him? He had to have come this way.” Luke said, in a panic.<br/>
Ben seemed to hold no sympathy or any sign that he cared in the slightest. Peter didn’t understand what had happened to make his uncle so fierce and mean like this. “Sorry, didn’t see him. I don’t know where he is.” Ben said. But Peter didn’t feel totally convinced that this was true.<br/>
And neither did Luke, it seemed. “Did you do something to him? You know where he is, don’t you? You were talking to him earlier, and you were the only one out this far.” He said, his tone rising in volume.<br/>
Ben did not appreciate this, and he moved in and decked Luke hard in the face, sending him spinning into the snow.<br/>
Peter gasped. “Ben!” He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.<br/>
Then Ben lifted up the rifle and aimed it in Luke’s direction.<br/>
“Ben no!” Peter yelled. “Luke! Run!” He yelled and suddenly lunged forward and grabbed onto the rifle, directing it away from Luke. “Run Luke!” Peter kept yelling.<br/>
Ben pulled the trigger, and the sound of it made Peter’s hearing explode so he heard nothing but a high-pitched sound in his ears. He looked over at where Luke was and saw he was still running away through the snow. So he hadn’t been shot. Ben wrenched the gun away from Peter. “Get back to the cabin. Now!” He yelled when Peter hesitated. But when he yelled, Peter backed away and ran back to the cabin, hit by another coughing fit as he ran.<br/>
Ben watched him go, and then looked back at the deer, and then at his rifle. He frowned a little, looking closer at the barrel of the rifle where Peter had grabbed it. There were literal indentations in the metal where Peter’s fingers had been. He must have gripped it so tightly and then hung on it or something to get it to aim off of Luke. He thought nothing of it for now, but stored that in his memory of weird things. </p><p>     Peter was in complete and total shock that Ben would raise his gun at another human being. He was someone that he would go after as Spider-Man. Someone he would stop so they would not hurt others. And what was Luke talking about? He seemed to think that Ben had something to do with his disappearance.<br/>
Instead of going back to the cabin, Peter suddenly veered to the right and went around a long ways to avoid the place he knew Ben would be. He used his impeccable sense of direction to find out where the truck was based on where he had seen Luke come from. Soon he saw the truck caught in the drift of snow, but Luke was not there. He walked over to it and saw that something was amiss. It would easily be missed by someone who was not looking for anything, but Peter noticed the scuffle marks in the snow by the driver door, and how it was sort of latched but not quite. He was able to get it open without a key. There was a radio inside. He got excited for a moment, but soon realized that it was broken. Literally ripped out of the front console. That was odd. That was probably their only chance of communication with the outside world. This was all really strange. And now where was Luke?<br/>
While he was exploring the truck, he heard footsteps behind him crunching in the snow. He ducked out of the car doorway and turned to see who it was. It was Ben.<br/>
“I told you to go back to the cabin.”  He said. His tone was quiet, but that somehow made it all the more ominous. Peter’s jaw tightened a little. “I-I was trying to see if I could help out…but look! There’s a radio in here. If I can fix it, maybe I can contact some people out there.” He said earnestly. Ben did not look interested in that at all. “Come on. Back to the cabin.” He said and started heading in that direction. Peter stayed where he was and stared at him in disbelief. Ben turned and looked at him. “Peter!” He said. Peter seemed to fold in on himself a little, coughing a couple times as he crunched through the snow toward Ben. Ben put an arm around him, but Peter did not like it. He didn’t remove it though, he just walked alongside his uncle. “I’m just trying to keep you safe. You know that right?” He asked. Peter nodded, shivering a little. </p><p>     They got back to the cabin and Terry was still there. Apparently, when Peter went to go check out the truck, Ben hauled the deer back to the cabin and found that his nephew was not there. But now Peter saw what Ben had done to the deer, and it was currently hanging upside down by its back hooves from a rope in the tree, being drained of blood. He knew he would be able to see it outside the window of the back room of the cabin. He was so hungry, but this did not increase his appetite much. He made a face as he was led back into the cabin. “Stay in here. I’m going to get some wood.” Ben said.<br/>
Peter glanced around the cabin. He was here alone, Terry was on the lake, pulling up some much-awaited fish. Peter took this time to grab one of the backpacks on the shelf by the door and he stuffed it with a blanket and a smaller gun, and a couple other things that he would need. A terrible thought was beginning to dawn on him: Ben didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay here. He knew his best bet was to leave and get to the truck and drive out to safety. He opened a drawer of a small stand that was near the door and he found two sets of keys in there. “What? Why’re there two sets?” He muttered, holding one in each hand. He decided to keep both of them, stuffing them in his pocket. He took the backpack and slung it over his shoulder, wrestling it on over his thick coat. He glanced out the window of the main room and saw that Ben had chopped some wood, and was now going down to the lake to where Terry was. Peter quietly opened the front door and stepped outside, so thankful that the snow muffled the sound of his footsteps. Peter escaped and ran around the cabin and took to the trees. He didn’t remember exactly where the truck was, and it was harder now that the sun had set but he knew he was going in the right direction. Luckily he had pretty good night vision. He walked for a long time, but suddenly he felt really unsure of where he was going. He knew the truck was around here somewhere. He just didn’t know if he went too far right or left. He stopped walking and looked around.<br/>
Suddenly, it was like it was magic. Out of the darkness and the lightly falling snow, Ben was there. Just there. Out of nothing, it seemed. And Peter was so taken back by it that he gasped and took a step back. He knew fear. He knew what it was to be chased, to be on the brink of death, to feel like a moment is going to be your last. But this. This was something different.<br/>
“You just….left me?” Ben said. His voice was quiet, full of disappointment. And his eyes held that look of utter betrayal.<br/>
Peter felt like his voice was stuck in his throat. “Yeah but…I was gonna come back for you, Ben…promise.” He said. “I was gonna get help. It can’t be that far.” He said.<br/>
“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you out here?” Ben said sternly. And there was a certain hidden rage that was just beneath the surface. Peter was about to answer but Ben cut him off. “Look, I’m your Uncle, and now, the only legal guardian you have. It’s my job to protect you.”<br/>
Peter felt a sudden prickle in his stomach. One that felt like anger and distrust. And he felt it enough that it came out in his response, which was just a light huff through the nose in a scoffing manner, and a slight roll of the eyes. Ben picked up on every one of those signs in Peter’s body language, and he squared himself so he was facing Peter full on. “You think that’s funny?” He asked, as he took slow steps toward the boy.<br/>
Peter backed up a step, but shook his head.<br/>
“You think I can’t protect you? You think I can’t keep you safe out here? You think I’m a shitty uncle? A shitty guardian?” He asked, and each time he asked, a light was in his eyes as if Ben could feel that his worst nightmares were coming true.<br/>
Peter didn’t answer, and he decided to hold his ground and not back up anymore. But then Ben pushed him by the side of his head. Not a slap or a hit or anything. Just a push that made him nearly fall over. But he righted himself, staring a hole right into the center of Ben’s chest. He did not make eye contact, he could just feel that something big was brewing and the tension between them was so thick it had no other option but to explode. Peter’s jaw tightened as Ben shoved him in the chest, making him back up a little. “You think I’m a shitty uncle? Say it. Come on, say it.”<br/>
Finally Peter spoke, but it was very quiet, hardly above a whisper. “You’re a shitty uncle.” His jaw was tight, and he didn’t look up at Ben. He just continued staring straight at his chest. Ben smirked. “You gonna say it like a little pussy, or are you gonna say it like a man?” He asked. Peter didn’t respond again. “You think I can’t look out for you? Tell me how you feel, Parker. Tell me that you think I can’t keep you safe. Am I a shitty uncle? Then say it! Say it!” He continued to shove him little by little as his voice grew in volume and it became slightly more violent. Finally Peter snapped, but he had some semblance of control, because in reality, he could break Ben’s hand by crushing it with his own fist. But this would have to settle for now, he was just so angry, and he had so much pent up rage and confusion and weariness, and he was so so hangry.<br/>
“You’re a shitty uncle!!” He suddenly bellowed and butted his head into Ben’s chest pretty hard, punching him in the stomach and the sides. But it was a testament to how absolutely strong Ben was in his anger (or his insanity) that none of this had an effect on him.<br/>
“There you go! Say it again!” Ben took every hit that Peter gave him. The boy screamed in rage and frustration. “You’re a shitty uncle!!” He screamed out, but his voice was muffled because of Ben’s thick coat. Ben had his arms around the boy now, holding him close and not letting him use his arms. Peter flailed and fought against him, and soon his screams turned from screams of rage to screams of fear. “Stop! Ben stop! Get off me please!” He screamed, soon letting his legs drop out from under him, thinking that maybe if he went down, Ben would accidentally lose his grip on him. But that didn’t happen. Ben’s arms were like vices on him and didn’t let him go. Ben gathered the boy back up in his arms so he was forced to stand. “Get off me! Please stop! No!” Peter was in full-fledged panic now, not even using his common sense to use tactical moves to get out of this. He had been man-handled many times by his nemeses, but he was always tactful because he expected that of them. This was out of the reach of his mind, because this was someone he had grown to trust, someone that provided for him and protected him, and was now holding him hostage. His fighting was erratic and poorly executed. Ben was bigger than him, and soon had his arms completely around Peter in a tight lock, refusing to let him go. Finally Peter wore out, and after the fight completely left him, he was left doubled over in Ben’s arms, dry heaving. He had nothing to puke up, but the excitement and psychological trauma this had, left him shaking and sick. And then to kick him while he was down, a coughing fit took him and he couldn’t stop. But he still had so much anger. He wriggled out of Ben’s arms. “Fuck off!” Peter gasped and walked away a few steps to get over the fit of coughing. Ben just stared at him for a minute, his mind replaying what had happened. And he would do that again if he had to. He would bring Peter back to that cabin, no matter what it took.<br/>
Peter got done coughing and stood there, glaring at him from where he was. Ben saw the look of defiance and fear in his eyes. “Come on back to the cabin, Peter.” Ben said. Peter just watched him and so Ben sighed and walked over to him. Peter looked like he was going to fight, but thought better of it last minute, and he walked alongside him back to the cabin.<br/>
The fire had died down a little. Ben marched Peter into the back room. “I’m gonna get a fire going. You get some sleep.” He said. He stared at Peter until the boy sat down on the bed. Ben left the room and closed the door. Moments later, Peter heard Ben moving things around in the other room, moving things in front of the door. He stood up and walked over to the door. “Ben? Ben! Don’t!” He messed with the knob, it was locked and wouldn’t turn. He banged on the door a few times and then full on backed up and threw himself into it. He did that again, and when it wasn’t working, he punched it a few times. When that didn’t work he paced around the room, readjusting his beanie furiously as he kicked various walls, and then the bed frame. The metal creaked and the footboard of the metal bent, and some thin parts of the metal came off the bars and landed on the wood floor. He finally sat down on the bed, feeling enormous hunger pangs that ate at his insides. He had not eaten since that morning when Terry offered him the bread. Where is Terry? he thought to himself, thinking that he had not seen him on his way to the cabin. He wondered where Luke was, and he felt awful. It was cold out there, but he knew now that Ben would shoot him if he came back to the cabin. And poor Richard, he was just gone, it seemed. He had a very nasty feeling about that.<br/>
After a while he heard Ben’s footsteps approach the doorway. “You know I’m just doing this to protect you, right?” He asked.<br/>
Peter didn’t answer. He was lying on his back on the bed, staying stubbornly sour.<br/>
“Peter?” Ben asked. “You gotta trust me. This is what’s best. I know it’s scary, I know you don’t like it. You gotta trust me.”<br/>
Peter finally sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.” He said.<br/>
“I’m gonna get a fire started. It’ll get warmer in there in a little bit.” Ben told him and then moved away from the door.<br/>
Peter got up after a while of not being able to sleep and paced around the room. He hated this. He knew he should have called Tony Stark when he got the chance. Now he was so far out of range, he wondered that if Tony ever came looking he would ever find him. He didn’t have his suit, or web shooters, or trackers, or any of that. It was just him and Ben, and whoever else might or might not still be around.<br/>
After an hour it started to get warm in the room and he felt comfortable enough to take his coat and gloves off and leave them on the bed. He walked over to the door and listened. He glanced around and then his eyes landed on the metal parts of the bed that fell to the floor. He stooped and picked up a thin metal rod that was pretty flat. He looked back at the door, and then at the floorboards and knelt down. He went to work on trying to pry up one of the boards and lift it. He tried on several different boards until he got to one that squeaked a lot, and with great care to not make too much noise, he lifted up the board and took it out of its spot. Underneath was pitch blackness. He knew he was not going to be able to fit through that slot, but he probably would with one more board gone. He tested the boards and found the one that was probably the loosest out of the two options he had, but it was still pretty stuck. He finally wedged the metal piece between the boards and stood on it to lift it up. Once that board was removed, he went to the door one last time to hear if Ben was coming. But there was nothing. That made him nervous. He went to the window and peeped out and saw that Ben was there on the chopping block, hacking bits of the deer up. That was an extremely grotesque scene. Peter wasted no more time. He put on his coat and gloves and then sat down on the floor, put his legs through the slot and then slowly sunk down. He got down under the cabin, and then using a flashlight he brought, he crawled his way toward the way out. On his way he saw something to his left. When he pointed the flashlight in that direction, he was met with the Richard’s dead, blank stare. Peter covered his mouth to muffle a gasp. He knew Ben had done that. He kept crawling a little farther until he got out from under the cabin and he scrambled through the snow, and ran away as fast as he could toward the truck. He had the keys.<br/>
He ran fast and finally got to the truck. He praised whoever was looking out for him that he found it. He ran around to the drivers side and opened the driver’s side door. He almost got in, but was met with a horrible sight. Luke was sitting in the passenger seat, and his head was twisted at a very bad angle. Peter gasped and nearly stumbled backward out of the truck. He was about to force himself to get in anyway as he fished for the keys in his pockets. But then another problem arose. The tires were slashed. The car was useless. Peter cursed under his breath and looked around. He figured maybe he could go back around the cabin, cross the lake, and find the road they had been driving on when they crashed. He left the truck and ran back the way he had come, but made a wide arc so he would come to the lake but be far away enough from the cabin. But then he heard a horrible sound. “Peter!” Ben was calling. Peter quieted his breathing and moved away from the voice. He didn’t care that he was cold. He didn’t care that he was starving. He only cared about getting out of here and away from him as soon as possible. “Peter!” Ben called again.<br/>
Suddenly, Peter could see Ben not too far away though the forest. Peter didn’t move, he stayed in his spot behind the cover of a tree, his heart thundered in his chest as he stared at his uncle. Neither person moved, until Peter made the slightest lean toward the right, and a twig snapped under his weight. Ben needed nothing more, and he charged in that direction, now able to make out his nephew in the shadows. Peter’s eyes widened and he turned tail and fled through the trees. But Ben was much faster, adept at what he was doing. It was like another hunt. But without weapons. Peter slipped through the snow but kept going as fast as he knew how. Ben caught up to him and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. Peter fought him again, but nothing like the last time. Now, Peter was desperate, not fueled on rage and hatred. “No, Ben- Please stop! No— They’re gonna…they’re gonna find us, you know! I know what you did to those guys, Ben..They’re gonna find us..” He coughed, begging to be released. Ben just buried his face in the back of Peter’s neck as he held him close, bending over the boy slightly so that he didn’t have the momentum to run.<br/>
“We can’t leave, Peter. We can’t leave. It’ll be alright. Just us. It’s gonna be ok, I promise.” He said. Peter was in despair, not struggling against him anymore. Ben quite literally dragged him back with him to the cabin, an arm around the boy’s shoulders, even if Peter didn’t put up a fight. If it had been any enemy, he would have fought him and killed him, or he would like to think he would. But this was his uncle, his relative. He didn’t think he could do it. Ben brought him back to the cabin and set him in a chair by the fire. He saw the floorboards missing in the backroom, so he was not going to go back there anymore. Ben stayed in the room with him, keeping him under surveillance at all times. Peter sighed, staying in the chair quietly, just watching Ben get to work on getting some nails to fix the floorboard in the room.<br/>
“I’m really hungry.” Peter said softly to him.<br/>
Ben didn’t look at him. “I know. I’ll cook the deer in a minute.” He said.<br/>
“Where’s Terry?”<br/>
“He’s not here anymore.”<br/>
Peter swallowed, most likely knowing what that meant. There was a bucket of fish by the wood oven, and he knew Ben must have taken that from Terry when Terry was gone.<br/>
Ben walked over to Peter and knelt down next to him and took his face in his hands. Peter struggled, not knowing what he was going to do. Ben was calm the whole time, he just wrestled with Peter’s arms a little to get them out of the way. “Stop it, I’m just checking on you.” He said. There was a scratch along Peter’s cheekbone. “Where’d you get that?”<br/>
“A branch caught me as I was running.” He said.<br/>
“We gotta stick together. It’s the only way we’re going to make it out here. Do you even know what could have happened to you out there by yourself?” He asked.<br/>
Peter stared at him. “You need help. This isn’t right, Ben. You can’t keep me here.”<br/>
“I know you don’t understand. But you gotta trust me. It’s not going to work out there. In that big city? People just use us, and we get the crumbs from the rich people and…no, it’s better here. There’s no one over us.<br/>
Peter scoffed. “So what then, you’re just gonna keep me here for the rest of your life? I mean, practically, I want to go off and get married and have kids. But I guess you haven’t thought that far, have you?” Peter watched him.<br/>
Ben didn’t respond. Peter wasn’t entirely sure he was listening. That amount of logic could not compute with his brain, which had so fairly gone off the rails. </p><p>     They ate dinner finally, which was strips of deer and fish. They were lucky to find salt in a cupboard. Peter ate absentmindedly, even if he was ravenous. “So what will we do?” Peter asked him.<br/>
“Tomorrow, you and I will go fishing, I’ll teach you how to set the rig so we can let it sit and it does the fishing for us. We’re going to dry the deer meat and jar it, and then we’re gonna go hunt some more.”<br/>
“And so…that’s gonna be our lives then? That’s it? Just looking for the next meal and try not to freeze to death?” Peter asked as he chewed on another deer strip.<br/>
Ben sighed. “It’s the way you look at it. You’re not looking at it right.”<br/>
“Sure.” Peter muttered.<br/>
That night, Peter drifted to sleep in the nest of blankets Ben made for him. Ben was sitting in a chair by the fire. He had to sleep sometime.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Peter does what he has to do to get out of this nightmare.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 8: </p><p> </p><p>     The next day was just how Ben said it would be. They fished, they jarred meat, they hunted for more, and they chopped more wood. Peter was constantly looking for an opening, a way to get out. Something.<br/>
After three days of this, Peter decided he had to do something. While Ben was in the backroom stuffing the mattress with more foliage to make it a bit thicker and warmer, Peter suddenly shut the door on him and locked it, and shoved the chair underneath the doorknob, propping it up. He ran over and got the heavy bookshelf and effortlessly dragged it across the room and pushed it in front of the chair. By then, Ben was fiddling with the knob. “Open the door Peter. Open the door.” He said, his voice was low and dangerous.<br/>
“I’m sorry.” Peter said as he grabbed his backpack and ran to the front door.<br/>
“Peter, open this fucking door!” He yelled furiously.<br/>
Peter ran out the door and down to the lake. He knew he fell in once, but he had to risk it again. It was this or losing his freedom. He tested the lake and then started across to the other side. He tried to remember where the road would be from where they went just a couple days ago. He was only halfway across when there was a sudden gunshot so close to him. He dropped to his knees and stayed where he was. He looked behind him and saw Ben approaching him with angry steps, the rifle in his hands. Peter almost got up but Ben literally aimed another in his direction. “Ben! Stop! You’ll shoot me!” Peter yelled at him. “What the hell?” He was so shocked, even through all that had happened. Ben didn’t speak. He got to Peter, who started kicking and yelling, but Ben hauled him up by his collar and dragged him back to the cabin. “I don’t wanna go back! Ben stop!” Peter suddenly punched Ben in the side, and this time he didn’t hold back. There was a crack of a rib or something and Ben was winded. The man stared at the boy in shock. Then, faster than Peter could react to it, Ben swung up the butt of the gun and knocked Peter on the head with it, knocking him out. </p><p>     Peter woke up with a headache. He was warm and he realized it was because he was sitting next to the wood oven. He whimpered from the pain and despair of being back where he was. Then he realized he couldn’t move. He was bound to the chair by thick rope. He looked at himself and tried to move but couldn’t. Even his ankles were tied to the chair’s legs. He looked over at the door to the backroom and saw that the doorknob was broken off, a chunk of the wall was missing where the bolt had been kicked through, and the bookshelf was toppled from when Ben forced his escape.<br/>
A movement out of his periphery caught his attention and he looked up. Ben was wrapping up his chest from the rib that popped out of place, thanks to Peter’s punch.<br/>
“That’s some punch you got, kid.” Ben said. He didn’t look well. He had a sick look in his eyes. It wasn’t a physical ailment. It was definitely psychological. Peter watched him but didn’t say anything. He started to remember the fact that Ben had shot at him. Ben walked over with a plate of food. More deer and some fish. “Alright. Since you can’t be trusted to be by yourself or even mobile, I guess you’re going to have to depend on me for literally everything. That’s fine. That’s how it should be for a while.” He sat down in front of Peter and attempted to make him eat the food that Ben was feeding him, but Peter looked away, not playing along with his sick games. There were tears in his eyes, but they were from anger. So much anger. Every time Ben tried to feed him he would turn his head stubbornly. Ben put down the plate and suddenly slapped the boy upside the head. It made Peter’s ears ring in his head. “I guess we’re going to start from square one. Richard may have been your father, and May may have raised you for the majority of your life. But now it’s my turn. They never gave me a chance. And I love you like they did. You know that. It hurt so bad when May got to be with her nephew but I didn’t. Now. Eat this, or you’re gonna get really hungry.” He said.<br/>
Peter didn’t see the point in angering him any farther. He was deranged and delusional. The boy opened his mouth and took what Ben gave him silently. Finally, Ben put the plate down. “Now, what do you say?”<br/>
Peter stared him dead in the eyes, but there was no familial affection. “Thank you.” He said softly.<br/>
“There. That wasn’t so bad.” He smiled and then got up and went back to whatever it was that he was doing when Peter woke up. </p><p>     Peter was tied to that chair for the next couple of days, only being untied when he had to go to the bathroom. He refused to eat most of the time, only doing it when it looked like Ben was going to lose his cool. Peter’s back hurt so much, and he hadn’t laid down in that whole time. He was beginning to look on the outside how Ben probably looked on the inside. His hair was disheveled, his cheeks were hollowing out from the weight loss, and he didn’t speak anymore. But never once did he think about giving up. In fact, this last time when Ben untied him to go to the bathroom, Peter took a razor with him and slid it up his sleeve. So when he was tied up again, he discreetly used the razor on the rope. It was terribly slow going, but he had literally nothing else to do.<br/>
It was the dead middle of the night and he was pretending to sleep. Ben was asleep near the fire, laying on the floor but propped up so if he opened his eyes he would be looking directly at Peter.<br/>
Peter was close to getting the rope cut through. He was so close. Finally, he was able to wriggle his hands out of their bonds, and he started untying the ropes around his ankles. He paused once, for fear of Ben waking to any noise. But after he felt confident he could get out, he went to work and finally had to saw through part of the last knot. But finally, he was free. He stood up and the chair creaked a little. He got on his beanie and coat and didn’t even worry about the backpack. He just had to run. But he stopped. Running never got him very far. Sneaking out and leaving always got him back here in the end. He couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t. He looked at Ben, and then at the rifle near him. The rifle was too close to Ben for comfort. But he had a smaller handgun in the backpack that he packed there last week. He went and dug around in it until he found the weapon. He knew this time, Ben might actually shoot him. If he couldn’t have Peter, no one could.<br/>
Peter examined the pistol and took the safety off and cocked it. He wasn’t even sure if it was loaded, and he actually had no clue how to check to see if it was. He just hoped so. He looked at Ben sleeping there on the floor. He couldn’t shoot him. Not while he was sleeping. Peter got his gloves on and then opened the door and left into the night. He started his dangerous venture across the lake again toward the road. It was dangerous on the lake not just for the reason of the possibility of falling in, but because he had no cover. It was just him, exposed on that huge land mass of nothingness. He crossed as quickly as he dared and finally got to the other side and plunged into the woods. Because it was nighttime, he could not hear the highway like he could on the trek toward the cabin when they first arrived. That felt like years ago. He knew he just had to keep going in this general direction and he would reach the road.<br/>
He hardly dared to even breathe too loud until he reached the road. But he finally found it. He climbed up the ditch and onto the road. He looked around and in the darkness he saw the black outline of the car. It was nearly covered in snow though, there was no hope for it. Peter started off along the road down the way they had been driving before they crashed.<br/>
That’s when he heard Ben’s voice, and the snapping of twigs as Ben came running up the ditch. The crazy man had followed Peter’s tracks and hauled ass across the lake and to the road. Peter didn’t run this time. He knew Ben would only catch up, or shoot him. He whipped out his pistol and cocked it, aiming it straight at Ben. He was shaking, thinking of what he might have to do. But he knew he couldn’t think about it. He had to do whatever he needed to to get out of this nightmare. Ben got up out of the ditch and onto the road. The man was insane, he was not wearing a coat. He was only in his button-up flannel and jeans.<br/>
“Stop!” Peter yelled. “Just stop right there!” He yelled.<br/>
Ben saw the pistol and a small light of shock was in his eyes. But it was quickly taken over by that permanent darkness of betrayal and confusion. “What…Why don’t you trust me? I’m trying to take care of you.”<br/>
“Tying me to a chair for days is not taking care of me! Since I’ve been with you, I haven’t been to school, I haven’t made friends, I haven’t progressed. Instead I’ve been alone, completely isolated, and what’s even worse,” his tone was rising in pitch as he got slightly more hysterical, “I’ve been molested by one of your friends! Remember when they came to visit, all your work pals? Yeah, you were having fun showing off your guns in the shed. You didn’t even notice.”<br/>
Peter didn’t know what kind of impact he thought his words would have on his uncle. But he should have seen that the man was too far gone psychologically to register.<br/>
Ben looked at him in confusion. “Peter…you don’t understand. Stay with me and none of that will ever happen to you again. I promise. I will protect you, and keep you away from all of that.” As he talked he continued to walk closer to the boy. In his right hand was the rifle.<br/>
Peter backed away from him, keeping the pistol on him. “No, you won’t Ben. You can’t keep me safe, you can’t—” He was cut off from what he was going to say because Ben got just barely close enough to where he could lunge at Peter and swat the gun out of his hand. Peter knew how stupid he had been to hesitate, and he landed a punch right on Ben’s nose. That almost put Ben out of the game. But he wouldn’t quit. He grabbed Peter, and in a fit of frustration and desperation that he would be taken again, he threw himself down onto the snow on the road and wrestled him on the ground. He was not going to try to fight him standing up at this point. Then he went for Ben’s rifle, which was lying just out of his reach. Ben attempted to knock Peter out by taking him by his shoulders and slamming the back of his head into the road (which was how he killed Richard, with a side of strangulation). Peter cried out, his vision exploding into a bunch of little stars, but he kept conscious. He looked at the rifle and tried to reach it, but Ben did it again, slamming Peter’s head into the road. Peter felt his consciousness slipping. He landed another good punch in Ben’s face, giving him a split second to scramble for the gun. He finally reached it and swung it around, knocking Ben in the head with the butt-end of it. Ben cried out and rolled off him. Peter scrambled up to his feet and cocked the rifle and shot Ben with it. There was no sound except the firing of the rifle. Just that one boom and then that was it. Peter stood dead still, watching his uncle on the snow, just lying there. Peter could not believe he just did that. He kept the rifle and kept running down the way he had been going before Ben turned up. He didn’t stop running, he just wanted to run as far away as possible. He was too shocked to cry. </p><p>     By the time he reached civilization, the sky was starting to turn a pale grey in the East. Peter listened to the sound of the cars on the highway and made his way toward it. He kept going, feeling his knees almost give out from hunger and exhaustion. But he finally came to a really shady road-side gas station. He walked up to the door, but it was closed. It would not open for another couple of hours. He figured he was breaking the law right now but he didn’t care at the moment. He smashed in the window with the butt-end of his gun and crawled inside. It was dark but he quickly found the phone behind the grimy front desk. He picked it up and dialed Tony Stark’s number. He had it memorized very well. He waited for the phone to pick up, just praying so hard that Tony would answer. Just when it seemed like he would not answer, there was a sound on the other end, and Tony’s blessed voice. “Hello, who’s this?” He did not recognize the number, but his phone automatically let him know what area this call was coming from.      Peter suddenly exploded, blurting out words that were just trying to come out as fast as possible. “Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark I’m here! I’m trapped here please, please come get me!” He hated how desperate he sounded, but he was that desperate. Tears finally slid down his cheeks and he cried softly. “Please, Mr. Stark, you have to get me out of this place.”<br/>
Tony was in absolute shock, listening to the boy’s voice on the other end. “Ok kid hang on. I’m putting a tracker on your location. I’ll be there in just a couple minutes. Where’s your uncle?” He asked.<br/>
“I—I shot him, Mr. Stark, I shot him. He’s dead.” He said through a sob into the phone. “He lost his mind…I don’t know why-I don’t…” He couldn’t speak coherently at the moment, he was so shaken. </p><p>     Tony was literally running down the hall to get to the main lab where his suit was while the coordinates were set up from tracking the phone Peter was calling on. The billionaire got into the lab and immediately was in position for the suit to just form around him. As soon as it was ready he took off, even if the coordinates were still coming up. “Kid, you’re gonna be ok. Just stay where you are, I’m coming to get you.” </p><p>    Peter nodded, staying on the line with him. He held the rifle close, even if it disgusted him. He began to shiver. He had been running and sweating so he got really hot, but now that he was sitting, the cold was getting to him. That and the fact that he was weak from no food, and a lack of appetite. There was food in this gas station, but he didn’t want to steal on top of breaking the window. </p><p>     What happened next was something out of a horror movie. The doors of the station were suddenly kicked open. Glass flung everywhere, and the front bell was ripped off. Peter gasped and ducked down beneath the front desk. Ben stumbled in, seething with inhuman rage. Apparently, Peter only shot his arm, and he pretended to play dead. In the dark of night, Peter could not tell what part of Ben he had hit, so he was just satisfied by the lack of movement. But now it was all clear in the light of dawn. His bloody arm was tied up tight with a rag. Peter felt like he was in a zombie movie. He couldn’t move or make any sound. He just watched Ben wander is way through the place. He grabbed a back of pretzels and started eating them carelessly. But he had seen the hole in the door before he busted it open. So he knew Peter was here somewhere. He went down the back way and checked the bathrooms. Peter glanced at the open door and he got up and made a run for it. He knew Mr. Stark would figure out that he had to leave. Then he heard Ben’s yell of fury as he saw his nephew leaving. Peter gritted his teeth and stood his ground. He whipped around and aimed the rifle right at him, cocking it and firing it right into Ben’s chest as the man lunged at him. Ben crumpled to the ground and rolled, gasping for air and crying out, but eventually did go still.<br/>
Peter was breathing so hard, and the rifle shook in his hands. At that moment he heard the sound of rocket boosters from above. Tony spotted him and the suit landed on the ground, immediately opening up. The man walked out of the suit and over to the boy who was standing there. He didn’t look like Peter. Or not the Peter that left the hospital with Ben. “Kid…” Tony walked over to him, but made no sudden movements. Not while that look was in Peter’s eyes. Not while he held that rifle. “Kid…Look at me.” Peter was in tears, but he looked at Tony and the man leaned in very slowly and took the rifle from him. “You don’t need this anymore.” He said softly. He took in the sight of the boy. His face was dirty, his cheeks were hollow, and he was so thin. His brown curls were gross from being out there for a week or so without any showers. Luckily he still had his beanie. Tony’s heart broke and he gently took Peter’s hand. “A car is on its way to pick us up ok? I’ll be with you the whole time.”<br/>
Peter nodded, straightening up. In a miraculous effort to pull himself together, he took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.” He said softly.<br/>
Tony looked down at the body that Peter had been standing over, and he didn’t ask for an explanation. He figured Peter had been through too much. He made some phone calls, his phone managing the crappy cell service out there.<br/>
“I’ve got a crew coming to pick him up. He’s no longer your responsibility.” Tony told him. He set down the rifle beside the body and then took Peter away from it. Peter was a bit twitchy because he was afraid that perhaps Ben wasn’t dead, and he would use the rifle to shoot them both. </p><p>     Peter got back to NYC and took an immediate trip to the medical wing in Stark Tower. He was evaluated, but he was not very cooperative. He tried his best to be, but there was no place he would less rather be than in the medical wing being examined from top to bottom. He was antsy and didn’t want to sit still.<br/>
Stark took care of all the gross business of making sure Ben got charged with what happened, though there was really no point because he was dead. Ben didn’t deserve it, but he was buried on the Parker family plot where the rest of them were. That was a depressing thing to think about.<br/>
Peter was alone in the world now, as far as blood-relatives went. Tony swore that he would be that boy’s family. Anything he needed was his immediately. That kid was always like a son to him. He was a son to him. The son he never had. Tony wasted no time in getting on with the legal proceedings to adopt Peter, and it was relatively easy because he had no other guardians that could contest this. Before Peter knew it, he was Peter Parker Stark. And he couldn’t have been prouder to carry the name. </p><p>     Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Peter healed nicely and he was back to his regular self in no time. MJ and Ned visited him all the time, and that was a tremendous part of his healing process. He went back to school and worked really hard to catch up to where he would have been normally. Tony got him a dog too, and Peter hadn’t been this happy in such a long time. </p><p>     For the first time since the funeral, Peter was able to go and pay his respects to May. He left flowers for her and told her a little about what happened, feeling like maybe she was listening. With all the superhero stuff, friends, a dog, and a loving adopted father, Peter knew that he would not be damaged forever. There was so much he still had to do.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Le fin</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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